Redemption, Salvation
by Elaanabeth
Summary: Takes place shortly after the end of the movie. Grilo. Graverobber realizes that his conscience isn't quite dead yet and Shilo gets to see that kindness can still exist in the cruel world she lives in. In the end, they both get to sleep a little easier.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Repo doesn't belong to me. If it did, I'd hug it and squeeze it and call it Tim.

A/N: Ever just have something pop into your head in the middle of the night? I'm not sure if this will ever be more than a ficlet. The relationship between Gravedigger and Shio is meant to be vague and open-ended, so take it as you will.

* * *

Graverobber cheerfully hummed as he strolled through his preferred hunting grounds. Tonight had been a good draw; lots of bodies. He'd already managed to fill his pockets with vials of Z and morning was still hours away. He didn't even have to worry about the GEnforcers since he knew for a fact that there had been a fairly large group of Z dealers looking to raid the graveyard on tier D, and if someone just... happened to leave an anonymous tip, well...lucky for him.

His cheerful humming slowly died off when he came to the intersection at the statue of a woman with wings. He paused. The path on the right would lead him to his personal entrance/exit to the graveyard, the path on the left however...

He examined the statue, trying to convince himself that it was the real reason he stopped at the intersection, and not because the other path took him past a mausoleum he was becoming far too familiar with. The statue had once been beautiful, but now it was an ancient ugly-looking thing, half crumbled and mossy green. A relic from the days before polymer plastics took the place of stone and steel.

He should get out of there. Even if the GE's were busy, there were still the security systems, and the longer he lingered, the greater the chance of him being caught. If he hurried, he could probably catch a couple buyers lingering in some trash-filled alley who would be happy to see his product. He thought about the dusty amber bottle sitting on a shelf, waiting for him at his current crash pad. He wondered if the little sparrow had managed to drag herself home tonight.

Graverobber sighed and resisted the urge to drag his hands through his hair. He was too goddamned softhearted. There were thousands of little girls in the world who had it worse than she did. She had a goddamned house, her father probably left millions in creds stashed for her somewhere. He glared at the crumbled place where a face should have been on the statue. Why the fuck should he care?

The statue didn't bother to answer him. He absently pulled one of the full vials of Z out of a pocket and started twirling it with his fingers. He narrowed his eyes at the statue. It's seemingly innocent pose seemed to mock him. Standing with one broken off foot leading and both of its arm stubs leading forward. He could see it standing whole with its arms extended out in entreaty, maybe a sad look on its face. He wasn't a goddamned hero; the statue had no right asking him.

He shoved the small vial back into his pocket and forcefully started down the right hand path. There were no heroes anymore. HE wasn't a hero. He decided to put all thoughts about the little sparrow out of his mind. No more. He'd make some money, swing by Hallucinogen and see if Red was still working, and then he'd go home and spend some personal bonding time with Mr. Rum.

...It was just that she had so much POTENTIAL, so much more she could be.

Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck! Graverobber snarled in frustration. What part of 'I don't want to think about the little Sparrow' did his traitorous mind not get?

All of it apparently.

There was something about her that pulled him in. He'd known it the first time he'd seen her, crouching behind a tombstone, taking such innocent delight in a moonbeetle. Who the hell likes moonbeetles? She was an enigma. He'd been curious about her. She didn't look like a junkie, wasn't robbing the dead, wasn't looking for a place to hide. What was she doing here? He'd grabbed her attention, just to see what she'd do. He'd never admit in a million years that he'd forgotten about the alarm systems. What kind of idiot robs graves for a living and forgets about the alarm system?

Graverobber blinked. The mausoleum was standing in front of him. Cold, dark, forbidding. He glared at his feet. Traitors.

But since he was here...

He crept up to the door of the mausoleum, plastering himself to one side of the door. Just a quick peek. Check and make sure she didn't fall asleep on her mum's tomb again, and then he'd leave. Maybe his conscience would leave him the fuck alone. He angled his head and used a corner of the glass to peek into the room.

...Empty.

He relaxed and eased himself off the wall and through the door, arguing with himself that this was not stalker behavior and that he was just checking. His eyes did a quick scan of the room. Empty sandwich wrappers, a couple of old apple cores, and a glass bottle halfway in the shadows. He zeroed in on the bottle. Sighed in relief when the label proclaimed it grape soda and he couldn't smell anything alcoholic.

A small sound from a dark corner of the room had him whipping around, his grip dropping to the neck of the bottle. One of the corners of the room was deep in shadows; a small noise came from that area again. It sounded like a small breath. Shit.

He crept forward, straining his eyes to see the small lump in the corner. Damn. He'd been hoping she had gone down her tunnel and back to the house to sleep. Instead, she was curled up in a drafty mausoleum on a cold stone floor with a thin black blanket wrapped around her. She made another small noise and Graverobber froze.

He crept forward again when she didn't move. When he was within an arm's length of her, he finally saw the tear tracts on her dusty face, and watched with morbid fascination as she made another little noise and a tear rolled from the corner of her eye. She was crying in her sleep. One arm was protectively wrapped around a small black book. She looked absolutely pitiful. He had the sudden urge to stroke her hair. His hand was almost touching her when the logical part of his brain finally decided to join the party. What the fuck was he thinking?

He quickly withdrew, as silent as velvet as he backed away from the girl. He barely remembered to set the soda bottle back where he found it before he silently let himself out. Once he was on the path, he bolted, running like the GE's were on his tail. His conscience wasn't eased. He didn't feel better by seeing her.

He wasn't sure what the hell he was going to do about his little sparrow. He thought about the statue at the intersection. Fucking bitch. He didn't need a goddamned conscience, he didn't need this complication. And that bottle of rum was sounding pretty damn good.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to fall into a pattern of checking on his little sparrow. It helped that her mausoleum was smack dab in the middle of his preferred pilfering grounds. Rob some bodies, get some Z, check on his sparrow, sneak out. Of course, he started feeling anxious if he went more than three days without checking on her.

She was almost always in the mausoleum, made it easy for him to check on her, but it also worried him since he had already broken into her house and couldn't find a single sign that she ever spent any time there. He ignored the little voice in his head that chanted _'stalker-stalker-stalker'_ when he did things like that.

Since his rounds usually took place in the middle of the night, she was usually asleep. Sometimes there was evidence that she was eating, sometimes there wasn't. When she was asleep, she would cry. When she was awake, she'd sit at the foot of her mother's tomb and flip through her little black book. He didn't think she was reading it, mostly because her eyes would be staring into space, and not focused on the book. Her bug book. He knew that now. One of the few times she hadn't been in the mausoleum, he'd had a chance to sneak a peek.

He didn't let her see him. Ever. Didn't talk to her or confront her or wake her up. He just... watched.

Of course, SHE had to complicate things.

She'd stopped eating. He was still kicking himself because it had taken him a couple of days to figure it out.

First, the wrappers and other garbage disappeared. Not unusual. She didn't like being messy and usually cleaned up any garbage she had within a day or two. But it took him longer to realize that no new wrappers or apple cores were showing up. Things had become a little...busy. GEs were locking down harder with new management to impress. Small time amateurs were trying to weasel themselves into his areas. Still, one night, he realized that the mausoleum didn't look right. There were no wrappers or small piles of food anywhere.

He kept a closer eye on her after that. She grew thinner. Not a whole lot, but she was tiny to begin with and she was starting to look downright emaciated. She slept a lot more. He finally had to do something when he found her unconscious across her mother's tomb.

She barely woke up when he slapped her. His hands shook as he poured water down her throat and tried to keep from drowning her. The water woke her up. He was so relieved that he didn't even care later that he had broken his unspoken rule of not touching her. He made her sip the water. Came back with food.

When she was conscious enough to wonder what the hell he was doing there, he confused her with a cryptic remark and slipped away.

He had to be much more cautious about watching her after that.

About a week after that, Graverobber realized that he had stopped drinking himself into a stupor to sleep.

When the first frost hit the ground, he bought a thick black blanket before he even realized what it would be for. He had to wait for almost four hours for her to slip away so he could replace her blanket with the one he had bought. He didn't stick around to see her discover it, but for the first time in several years, he slept through the entire night.

Two days later, he was picking through some new arrivals at the graveyard and found an apple sitting on one of the tombstones.

The next time his little sparrow seemed to stop eating, he waited until she was asleep and placed a large pile of food next to her.

When he peeked in on her the next day, he was happy to see the food missing, and a couple of wrappers pinned down by a large rock where she had slept. An apple sitting on top. His little sparrow seemed much more nervous after that. It was very difficult to watch (-_spy-)_ on her.

He started to only spy on her a couple of times a week. He made it a point to walk past her mausoleum where she could see him through the window if she were looking out of it. He wasn't stalking. Honest. She'd surprised him the first time she'd been seated on the front step, arms wrapped around her legs as she watched him walk by.

They never spoke. But if he nodded at her, she'd nod back before she slipped inside and closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Yes, I own Repo! It's mine! My precious! … Okay, not really. I own nothing. Me and Gollum need to go sit in the corner and cry over our lost non-owned preciouses. …preciousi? Precious-es? O.o

A/N: Okay, this is the second part to my little fic thingy. It's directly from Shilo's point of view this time. Again, any Grilo is purely up to the readers imaginations. Oh, and yes, I had a typo in the last chapter of a Gravedigger rather than a Graverobber. That's been fixed. Whoops!

* * *

In one night, my entire life was destroyed. I'd lost everything and everyone who had ever cared for me. I was lost and scared and hurt and probably a little crazy. Okay, a lot crazy. I was adrift in a cold cruel world with nobody to anchor me.

…And once again, Graverobber rescued me.

Oh, I'd managed to take care of myself, at least, at first, but it wasn't really more than the most basic and mechanical of motions.

The food in the house didn't last for more than a couple of weeks. I was scared of going out, but I knew I couldn't stay cooped up in the house forever. There was nobody to take care of me now. I had to do things on my own. Going to the supermarket would be a large first step into my independence. I knew it was necessary, but… it was hard.

Finally, after the sixth time I found myself contemplating whether the moldy catsup in the back of the refrigerator would really taste that bad, I steeled my nerves and firmly told myself that I would go shopping. I would get up, march out of the house, and…and what? Where do you get food? Dad used to do all the shopping because I was too delicate to risk leaving the house.

How sad is that? I didn't even know where the supermarket was.

I found it eventually.

Then I got lost trying to get back. I was so scared. All the streets looked the same, everything was dark, and my house wasn't where I thought it would be. Noises in the dark seemed to follow me, scared me, made me panic and run blindly. I lost one of my bags of food, but I didn't stop to try and gather it back up. I just wanted to be home again.

It was blind luck I stumbled across the graveyard. I knew it was my graveyard because I could see the angel statue. Not that you could tell it was an angel what with it missing most of its face and limbs. But I knew it was the same one that you could see from the mausoleum steps.

There was a small hole at the bottom of the perimeter fence that I barely wiggled through. I think I lost some oranges from my diminishing pile of food, but I didn't care. Home was so close.

I almost cried in frustration when I realized that the mausoleum was locked from the outside. The tiny windows near the top of the mausoleum were thin, but a small seventeen year old girl can wiggle through if she doesn't mind leaving a couple of layers of skin behind.

By the time I was through the passageway and back in the house proper I was crying and shaking and feeling the distinct urge to throw up. I never wanted to go outside again. It was too big, too scary, and I was all alone. Who would look for me if I went missing?

I tried to make the food that I had last as long as possible. It wasn't difficult, considering I didn't feel like eating much.

The electricity went out after about two months. There were notices in the mail about how to get it turned back on, and I had the money, but the letters all said I needed to go to the electricity building itself to have it turned back on. Something about a change of ownership.

I doubted that the building was within walking distance, or that I could find it even if it was, but the main reason I never went is because I was afraid that the Largo children were looking for me. I didn't want GeneCo, but I doubted that they would ever believe me. I may not want to live, but I didn't want to be a little lamb for slaughter either.

When the electricity went out, there wasn't much of a difference between the house and the mausoleum. At least momma was at the mausoleum.

The first time I snuck out, it was to visit momma. When I was little, dad would take me to momma's tomb to visit her. When I grew older, dad seemed more and more reluctant to take me. Oh daddy, how long have you been doing GeneCo's dirty work? Momma's tomb was the only place besides the house I was allowed to go, so after the –nth time dad gave excuses for not taking me, I snuck there on my own.

The mausoleum has always felt safe to me, so I wasn't too surprised the first time I fell asleep on momma's tomb. I was surprised at how deeply I slept. It was the first restful sleep I'd gotten since…

Needless to say, I started sleeping there more and more often. It was as if the whisperings of the dead couldn't penetrate momma's protection. I could sleep there and not dream. The feeling of someone watching over me was oddly comforting, like I wasn't alone.

I can't remember any particular thing that marked my steady decent into depression. In fact, I don't remember much between starting to sleep in the mausoleum and the first time I woke up with _him_ standing over me. I remember that nothing seemed important. I was at a stalemate. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life and I didn't care about, well, anything. Food was tasteless, and when I was awake I'd find hours slipping away when I was sure I'd only been thinking for a couple of minutes.

But nights were the worst.

I'd practically lived my life at night; and then, of course, _the_ night happened. Everything was ruined. Everybody…died. At night, in the darkness, the memories could no longer be held back. Not even in momma's mausoleum. Out of the darkness, the voices would start to whisper, and I'd see past events out of the corner of my eye. Could I have stopped all those deaths? Could I have saved Daddy? Could I have saved Mag?

The nights became progressively worse. I thought about trying alcohol or drugs to stop the memories, but I'd have to find them first, and I wasn't willing to venture out into the unknown quite so soon.

I guess I stopped eating at one point.

That's when Graverobber made his surprising entrance into my life once again. One moment, I'm blissfully floating in a void of nothingness, and the next, I'm lifting my heavy eyelids to stare into the oddly-worried face of Graverobber. I think I'd drooled on myself, because I remember the collar of my shirt was damp. My thoughts were so disjointed. I'm wondering about if he saw me drooling on myself, and then he's suddenly in front of me again and he's practically shoving a sandwich into my mouth.

When the neurons in my brain finally started firing again, I'd wondered what Graverobber was doing in the mausoleum, but all he did was make some strange remark before pulling a disappearing act.

Oddly enough, I didn't feel nervous about Graverobber knowing about me and the mausoleum. The idea of locking the mausoleum door didn't even cross my mind. I think I felt more comforted by the fact that someone knew I existed. It meant I wasn't a figment of my own imagination. I was real.

I still didn't know what he'd been doing there that night. It kept me wondering, giving me something else to think about besides bad memories. I thought about finding him and confronting him, but I was too timid. So I stayed in my little hidey hole- thinking; wondering.

And then he had to go and do something else. Something kind. I knew it was him when I found that new blanket sitting neatly folded on top of momma's tomb. There was no note or anything marking who it was from, but who else knew where I was; knew that I slept in the mausoleum? I hadn't even realized how cold it had been getting in the nights.

I was frustrated. I just didn't understand him!

Within moments of meeting him, even innocent little me could tell that he was not an upstanding citizen of good and decency. His entire way of life is made by defiling the dead and feeding people's vices.

So why did he keep rescuing me?

Why did he bring me a blanket?

* * *

I may have grown up isolated, but I still had manners. When someone gives you a gift, you're supposed to thank them. It was a stroke of genius when I used the apple.

Confronting Graverobber was out of the question. I always felt so out of depth when I was around him. Talking to him made me simultaneously feel like a simpleton and made me tongue-tied. Thanking him… no way. But I knew he was around the graveyard. A little scouting and I found a faint trail that meandered between the security systems. It was easy to leave an apple on top of one of the grave markers along the trail. It wasn't much, and it wasn't nearly enough considering how often he'd rescued me and then he saved my life…but I had a feeling that Graverobber would appreciate the simplicity of the gift. Besides, everyone needs to eat; right?

A little while later, he left a giant pile of food in my mausoleum while I was at the house. On the one hand, I was agitated because he was obviously spying on me, but on the other hand, I _was_ running out of food, and I really didn't want to try and find the supermarket again…

I took it, but I left him an apple. Ha, see? I know you're spying in here, Graverobber.

By the time I came back from putting the food away in the house, the apple was gone.

I started to realize that those moments when I felt like someone was watching over me, someone was _actually watching me._ I'd get that itch between my shoulder blades, once, maybe twice a night. It became something of a game for me, trying to spot him when I felt that he was watching me. There were moments I'd even felt like smiling.

Trying to spot Graverobber watching me gave me something to do. It made me feel more alive and connected to reality than anything else I'd done since The Night.

I learned a lot about Graverobber, watching him trying to secretly spy on me. He'd get a little crinkle between his eyebrows when he furrowed his eyebrows. And he didn't really frown; rather, he thinned his lips and narrowed his eyes. He didn't really walk in the graveyard; it was more like a combination between strolling around like he owned the place and gliding over the ground like a wraith. He liked to hum when he was in a good mood, and he played with things in his hands constantly.

I think he got tired of me spying on him, because his comings and going became much more obvious and that watched feeling became less frequent. I was worried that I'd annoyed him and he was avoiding me. Instead, I was shocked when I saw he'd changed his path so he walked directly past my mausoleum every night. I was glad he was still coming around. By that point, he was my only connection.

I loved the fact that we never needed to speak to each other. We had our own language, just between us.

I think I surprised him once. He'd stopped sneaking around and spying on me, so I didn't feel right doing it to him. Maybe… maybe if he was being so out in the open, I could too.

My knees were shaking so badly when I sat on the step that night. He'd been humming as he walked between the grave markers, cheerfully twirling his Z extractor on one finger. I'm sure I saw a flash of surprise on his face, but it was only for a second before it was gone. He never even missed a step. He just smirked at me, gave me a small nod, and started humming and twirling again as he continued on.

I felt a flush of warmth in my chest as I stood up, dusted myself off, and went inside the mausoleum. I ate three oranges that night, and fell asleep without memories whispering in my ear.

I had an anchor. I wasn't floating off into nothingness.

…Maybe I'd be able to go shopping again.

* * *

A/N #2: If you like this, Review!

Oh, and I have no idea if I'm going to be adding more to this. I'd like to think that it's complete as-is so it doesn't matter any-which-way.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Just in case you were wondering; no, Repo doesn't belong to me. If it did, something fantastic and weird would probably kill me, like a toilet seat from outer space hitting me out of the blue (and no, Dead Like Me doesn't belong to me either, so don't ask.) because my luck is just that bad.

A/N: This chapter is the result of evil plot bunnies. Damn you evil plot bunnies! On a completely different note, thank you to the awesome people who've been kind enough to review my fic! You all rock! We few Repo fic-ers need to stick together, yo.

Anyways, if anyone is wondering and actually reads ANs, I don't actually have a time frame really plotted out for this, so I guess this takes place a couple of weeks after the end of the last chapter(s)? *Shrug* Take it as you will.

* * *

_Shit, shit-shit-shit-shit. Shit!_

Graverobber chanced a glance behind as he slid around the street corner, one hand flashing out to grab the lamp post for extra insurance on the wet-slicked streets as one foot threatened to slip out from under him.

Four GEnforcers were still on his tail. Their heavy boots beating out a solid rhythm on the wet pavement.

_Mother-FUCKING-Amber…_ Graverobber mentally snarled.

He ducked down a trash filled alley and easily used the dumpster as a stepping pad to grab the dangling emergency ladder. He climbed up the rungs until he was higher than the wall blocking the end of the alley and leapt over it, landing on the other side with a grunt at the rough landing. There! That oughta buy him some room to think… He ran out of the alley, ignoring the budding stitch in his side. Behind him, he heard the distinct sound of a jump pack being turned on. _Dammit…_

Graverobber needed a plan- and fast.

The GEnforcers seemed to be more persistent than usual, more than likely due to the _incessant nagging_ of one Amber Sweet, bitch-extraordinaire. Damn, you call someone a used up whore once and they threw an entire squad of determined GE's on your tail. Nice to know she was thinking warm fuzzy thoughts about him.

Graverobber was an expert in the temper tantrums of miss Amber Rotti-Sweet. It was a necessary- if not unfortunate- precaution for someone in his line of work. Amber's dealers tended to end up dead if they didn't know what they were doing. She had a temper to match that massive chip on her shoulder, and those that she felt had 'slighted' her usually ended up paying with their life. …Him being the astounding exception, of course.

Graverobber smirked at the thought.

How many times does this make? That the Bitch hadn't caught him, and he escaped once again?

A trash can to his left exploded, reminding Graverobber that he hadn't escaped yet and he needed to focus on the task on hand if he planned on living to see another smog-encrusted dawn.

…Maybe if he got to the main drag… A plan started to percolate in Graverobber's devious mind.

He zig-zagged through the dirty streets, streaking through connecting alleys, and skidding around more than a few corners, then, a couple of exciting moments on a rectangular stairwell involving some acrobatic dodging of lethal projectiles, and several gravity defying leaps across some rooftops- _Ha! Who needed jump packs now?_- and he landed on the roof of a fairly stunted apartment building that had absolutely nothing that set it apart from the other rooftops he'd been on… except for one crucial difference; this building was right at the corner of Methuselah Avenue and Enoch Street, two of the busiest streets for the city's dump trucks.

He heard a low rumbling coming from the streets below and pushed his tiring body to run just a little faster for just a little while longer. When he reached the edge of the rooftop, he saw a truck coming along Enoch Street and paused for a moment to ready himself for the jump… almost…almost…

And instead felt the electric rocking pain slam into his back and side as one of the GEnforcers took a wild shot at him from a roof behind. It hit with enough force to partially spin Graverobber around and back towards the dangerously close edge. He desperately tried to regain his balance as he clamped a hand to his side and windmilled the other arm. Several more shots flew past him harmlessly. Graverobber groaned from the pain radiating from his back, not really paying attention to his feet as his back and side were on FIRE…

And fell over the edge in an uncontrolled flailing of limbs and slightly girly- er… manly yelling as he tumbled to his painful demise as a splat on the sidewalk. Graverobber swore on all the dead saints and gods he could think of, that he would never ever wear boots from an unconscious guy again unless he knew they were slick resistant; and it didn't matter how good they looked on him. Because if he had had slick resistant boots, then he wouldn't have slipped off the edge of the roof when he was getting ready to time his jump.

One of Graverobber's flailing and grasping arms hit the edge of a ledge and made a sickening pop that probably would have hurt like a son-of-a-bitch if his adrenaline hadn't been at an all time high from _falling-off-the-goddamned-roof_. But the jolt managed to spin him around and slow his fall enough that his uninjured hand managed to grasp the preceding level's ledge for a few precious seconds… before the mossy and rain-slicked ledge slipped out from beneath his grasping hand.

Graverobber had enough time to decide that rain and water in particular hated his ever-loving guts and he was never drinking the vindictive stuff again- because at least rum had the good manners to knock him unconscious before hurting him- before he landed with a painful and slightly squishy heap on top of a very smelly and questionable pile of something. The landing was enough to send starbursts of pain to temporarily blind him.

It took him a moment to realize that while he couldn't breathe from his abrupt landing, he was not, in fact, dead. He was also… moving?

He blinked several times to clear the pain induced fog and saw the large piles of garbage and the encircling walls of metal. Directly above him was a rainy, cloud filled sky. He heard a regular rumbling noise that seemed to gently vibrate the nauseatingly smelly pile he'd landed on. He wheezed several weak chuckles as he let his head fall back with a wet squelch.

_God…damn._ Somebody up there must love him. It was his escape dump truck.

* * *

He hadn't meant to show up _there_ of all places.

But somehow, after pulling his beaten and exhausted body out of the dump truck, he'd found himself practically on top of his little personal entrance to his favorite graveyard. All he could think about was a nice soft bed and maybe a couple of pulls at a dusty amber bottle that held his personal favorite painkiller, and instead he found himself in a graveyard, slumped against that evil bitch statue while contemplating the mausoleum ahead of him.

It wasn't like he had much of a choice. Amber had enough power and connections now that she probably knew all of Graverobber's favorite haunts and safe houses. Going to one of them would be signing his own death certificate. And unfortunately, he was too beat up to just crash in a dumpster and wait out Amber Sweet's ire.

Whereas, nobody knew about the strange… friendship he had with the little sparrow. Her dad had been a doc, right? Well, he'd been the Repo Man, but same difference, really. It was the medical experience that mattered. Surely his daughter would have picked up a few tricks here and there, right? Maybe her mansion had running water…?

Graverobber, while not particularly minding the stench that accompanied sleeping in garbage, did mind picking up a deadly infection from rolling open wounds in previously mentioned garbage.

He mentally ticked off the reasons in his mind as he continued staring at the mausoleum. Nobody knew about his little sparrow, nor could they connect him to her, so it'd be safe to sleep there. She might have medical kits, if not the knowledge to treat wounds, and the house, mansion really, might have running water, maybe a bite to eat.

He sighed and softly thumped the back of his head against the statue in lieu of twirling something between his currently useless fingers. So why the hell couldn't he make himself get up and walk over to the mausoleum?

He doubted the little sparrow would shut the door on his face. Well, he modified, she might, considering how he looked, but afterwards, she'd feel bad enough that she'd let him in. She was _such_ a soft touch…

So it wasn't that he thought she'd turn him away; and he knew for a fact that she was too goody-goody to turn him in, so it wasn't _that_ either…

So why…

…

The soft gasp woke him up. He blearily opened his eyes to see the little sparrow staring down at him in horror.

…When'd he end up on the ground…?

A second later- at least, he thought it was a second, it might have been minutes or hours considering how out of it he was- pain seemed to spread like fire from his injured arm.

"FUCK!" he yelled, trying to pull away from the little sparrow; who was now kneeling in front of him and had _touched _his injured arm. The goddamn statue was behind him, blocking him in. Bitch.

The pain in his arm was a prelude to how the rest of his body would feel. God…did any part of his body not hurt?

"…pned?"

Graverobber lolled his head back in his little sparrow's direction. _What the hell do you want?_ That's what he wanted to say; something witty and cutting to let his little sparrow know that he was just fine and didn't need any help _thank-yew-very-much_.

Instead, he ended up garbling something that sounded like, "…wha…ga…_you_…huh?" Graverobber blinked. That wasn't right. He moved his tongue around a bit, why wasn't it working right? Could tongues get bruised? It was a muscle, right? So he guessed it could get bruised…

The little sparrow fluttered out of the corner of his eye, bringing Graverobber's inner ramblings to a halt as he focused on her again.

"Graverobber…?" she whispered. "Graverobber, what happened?" He closed his eyes, he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard someone speak his name with such… concern… in their voice. He decided it was… nice.

A gentle touch on his shoulder made his eyes snap open again and made his shoulder throb in protest. Oh. Right. She asked a question. Er…

"…miscommunication…" he mumbled, remembering that this all started because he'd called Amber Sweet a used-up whore.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she got a little dimple in the middle of her forehead. He decided it was a very cute dimple…

"Miscommunication?" she asked while scanning his body from the top of his head to the tips of his traitorous boots. She took in the giant mess he was in.

"Mmm…" he hummed in agreement. He would have nodded, but it would have hurt.

She let out a shaky breath and extended a hand as if to touch him again, causing him to groan in protest and attempt to scoot away from her touch.

"…hurts…" he mumbled in protest. She flinched, but didn't touch him, leaving her hand extended mid air.

"Graverobber, you…you're hurt really badly." Her voice sounded all wobbly, even to a very concussed Graverobber. "You need…" her breath whooshed out in a large gust. "You need a doctor." she finished.

Graverobber was already shaking his head. No. No doctors. That bitch's minions would find him in a heartbeat if he was logged into the system…

"Who would find you?"

Shit. He hadn't realized he'd been mumbling out loud.

"Graverobber?"

"…'M fine, little sparrow… just…just need somewhere to rest…be right as rain…" he mumbled before remembering that water was a backstabbing bastard. Why was everything getting dark all of a sudden…?

"…verobber? Gra...ber…!"

But Graverobber had already fallen into unconsciousness again.

* * *

A/N #2: Don't worry, I already have another chapter partially written to go up shortly. Hee, cliffhangers are fun!

Remember, if you like the fic, then the greatest reward for a writer is for them to get reviews! XD

~~Elaana


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I would totally own Repo if I were allowed to, alas, I do not. Instead, I get to play with the characters without making a single red cent. Yellow cents on the other hand…

A/N: Here's the second part. Again, this is a companion piece to the last chapter, and focuses on Shilo rather than Graverobber.

* * *

Graverobber didn't know it yet, but Shilo was going to kill him as soon as he woke up. Of all the idiotic, stupid, moronic, brainless, dim-witted, dumb, thick-headed, reckless, idiotic, stupid… wait, she was repeating herself.

Shilo may have tied the bandages off a little more…vehemently than was strictly necessary, but Graverobber's unconscious twitches made her feel better.

After the last bandage was tied off, and there was a thick comforter pulled over his battered body, Shilo took refuge in the slightly dusty armchair next to the bed. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees.

She stared at Graverobber. She couldn't shake the feeling of wrongness that seemed to permeate the air. Graverobber was supposed to be larger than life, creating chaos, twinkling his stupid eyes and twirling something shiny between his fingers. Not…this. Not laying so still and quiet in a dead house while covered in bandages.

Shilo's fingers twitched to check his pulse again, but she restrained herself. He was alive. He wasn't going to die. She wasn't going to be left alone again. But she did wonder about the odd accumulation of injuries he'd managed to get.

Most of his injuries had been easy to treat. His broken ribs had just needed to be wrapped, and his numerous bruises and tiny cuts just needed to be treated with some antiseptic liniment. His dislocated shoulder and elbow had been a little more complicated, but it had simply been a matter of finding the right medical textbook to explain how to properly set those, then she'd wrapped that arm too.

But it was the gunshot wound on his lower back that worried her the most. She had no idea if it had been a laser, or if whoever had beaten him up so badly had used an old fashioned gun with bullets. If it had been an old fashioned gun, she'd have to take him to a doctor, no matter what his protests were. She couldn't take a bullet out, and if it was left inside him, it would kill him.

But so far, he seemed to be doing okay. He didn't have a fever or any discoloration to show an infection, which was good, because when she'd first found him, he'd smelled like he'd been rolling around in a trash heap.

He'd better be grateful when he woke up.

Because who had to drag his unconscious stinking body? Who had to shower him off and get rid of his disgusting clothes? Her. Shilo. And dear god, that had been embarrassing.

Shilo didn't like to think of herself as a prude, but… What else can you be when you've been isolated in a house your entire life? It's not like she'd had normal teenager experiences, like with dating boys and holding hands, and kissing…

Shilo felt the heat of the blush creeping up her neck and into her face. She was _such_ a prude…

It's all Graverobber's fault, she decided. Graverobber had to go and completely cover himself in disgusting goo; and there was no way she was going to let him sleep anywhere near anything he could contaminate, let alone dress his wounds, while he was covered in all that yuck. So of course she'd had to wash it off, except, it was still on his clothes… his soaked and torn clothes…and she couldn't very well get him into a bed while he was still in soaked clothes, right? So of course she'd had to undress him. Why wouldn't that little voice in the back of her head stop giggling?

She'd been nervous about it. What if he woke up while she was getting his clothes off? That would have been lethally mortifying. But he needed to be out of those wet clothes…and she needed to see what injuries he had...

She'd always thought that her first naked guy would be someone dashingly handsome and sweet- someone she was in love with, who loved her too. And they'd be undressing each other in some romantic setting, maybe with rose petals and candles. Because that's how a girl's first time is supposed to be like, right? And instead, what did she get? Skinny, gaunt, pasty pale, freakishly high forehead, whore-mongering, drug-peddling, beat up to all hell, Graverobber. Who still smelled like the rancid armpit of a month-long dead cow by the way. Any attraction his body might have held was completely obliterated by his oddly-bent arm and the fact that his painfully thin body was an abstract painting of various colored bruises. So not attractive at all. Nope, not even a little.

…He had really good abs though…

Shilo had chickened out at the last second when it came to his pants. Taking his coat and shirt off had been easy enough, but this… gah. She couldn't just take his pants off, la-dee-dah. Especially when she realized that Graverobber was obviously not a believer in underclothes. So she'd thrown the comforter over his lower half and timidly used fingertips that felt like they were being scalded to fumble his belt open and tug his pants off by the legs in several quick jerky tugs. Thank god he hadn't woken up.

She still didn't know what she was going to do when he woke up and found himself sans clothing. How on earth was she going to explain it without sounding like some kind of perverted…molester-person?

Nope, she figured, there was only one thing she could do. She was just going to have to kill Graverobber as soon as he woke up. Then there'd be no awkward questions and he'd never be able to scare her to death again.

* * *

Shilo was stirring a pot of soup downstairs when Graverobber decided to let her know he was awake.

"Where the FUCK are my pants?"

Shilo froze.

She heard a loud thump from the ceiling, followed by muffled cursing. Shilo whipped her head up and stared at the ceiling in frozen panic. There was another thump, and a loud wooden crash. More cursing.

Shilo winced and reluctantly made her way towards the staircase. The rational part of her head knew she needed to stop Graverobber before he did something stupid and hurt himself further, but the hopeful deluded part of her head hoped that he'd knock himself out before she got there.

Just as Shilo got to the base of the stairs, Graverobber was at the top, audibly growling and clutching a sheet hastily wrapped around his middle. The hand that wasn't holding a sheet around his waist was wrapped around the neck of a short table lamp, the cord swinging loosely. His eyes immediately locked on her form and he blinked, confusedly. "…Sparrow?"

Shilo was relieved that he'd stopped growling and fought to keep a blush from rising to her cheeks. "Er… hi?" she said meekly. _Oh god, I'm a pervert, I took advantage of an unconscious man and he's so pissed and he's never going to let this go and what am I going to do…_

Graverobber glanced at the lamp in his hand and glanced at Shilo again before he looked around at the area he was in. He squinted at her for a moment as if trying to tell if Shilo was real or illusion. "Huh." He absently set the lamp on the banister in front of him as he glanced down at himself, sheet and all, as if trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle.

_Oh god, oh god, oh god…_

"Shi- Sparrow…"

"Soup! I, er. I made soup!" She stuttered out hastily. She twisted the wooden spoon between her hands nervously.

Graverobber's eyes narrowed. "Sparrow…" he started again. _Oh god, he knows! Abort! Abort! Run! Kill him! Something! Whatever you do, don't-_

Shilo caved like an unstable jenga tower. "-It was me!" Shilo babbled. "I'm sorry! I- er- You- That is… you were covered in this disgusting slimy goo and you smelled so bad, and it could have gotten in your cuts, and I didn't know what else to do and I didn't know where you were hurt-and-I_-swear_-Ididn'tpeek," Shilo covered her face but kept babbling into her hands. "but…theshowerjustleftyousoakedand-I-coudn'tputyouintoabedsoaked-" she kept babbling, her voice getting higher and higher pitched as her heart continued to bead harder and harder and why-couldn't-she-breathe-where-did-the-ground-go…?

Something jarred her shoulders and her head snapped up as she took a gasping breath of air.

She found herself staring straight into Graverobber's eyes, which were a scant few inches away from her own. His hands were on her shoulders, and it'd been him that'd given her a brisk shake to snap her out of her hyperventilation.

"You listening, little sparrow?" he said softly. Her breath caught and her head made a tiny nod. Her heart felt like it was going to beat itself out of her chest. It'd been months since she'd stopped taking her father's fake medication, but there were times she seemed to still have the attacks that shouldn't exist. Shilo was secretly terrified that her father really had given her the disease and that she'd suddenly die…A distant part of Shilo's brain knew she was hyperventilating and possibly having a panic attack, but she couldn't think because the air kept running away and the ground was sooooo far away…

"Breathe in. Deep breath." Graverobber intoned. The air whooshed into her lungs. "Hold it." He softly demanded. She paused and her heart seemed to slow under the command. "Breathe it out slowly, sparrow. Little puffs." She was sure she felt her heart stutter and she almost panicked, but Graverobber was still there, anchoring her, and she was able to get the air out in shaky uneven puffs.

"Again." He said. "Deep breath in. Hold it. Slow breaths out." She followed his directions, happy to concentrate on something other than the ground and the air and her heartbeat. His voice was low and soothing and his hands on her shoulders were holding her down so she didn't float away, and his fingers were rubbing in little circles. It felt so nice… when was the last time someone had touched her like this? Like they cared about her? Her father…? No…he'd stopped giving her comforting touches when she started losing her hair. He didn't want to make her more sick… no, that's wrong, he made her sick himself. Why daddy? What did I do wrong? Why couldn't I have hugs anymore? It hurts so bad daddy. Daddy, make me stop throwing up… daddy…

She blinked.

Graverobber had stopped talking. But his hands were still on her shoulders and his face was still inches in front of her. And she was…fine. She could breathe again and her heart wasn't going to burst out of her chest, and the ground was under her feet again. Shilo flashed a brief, relieved smile at Graverobber and didn't notice the moment of surprise that flew across his face at her trusting gesture.

Relief was short lived for Shilo, though. Her eyes widened to horrified proportions when she realized that Graverobber was in front of her. Naked. With a sheet. In front of her. Her breath hitched, and Graverobber frowned and flicked her forehead with a finger as he straightened up.

"None of that. We just got you normal again."

She nodded, too dumbstruck to speak.

He searched her eyes for a moment, and Shilo absently noted that his eyes seemed to have little flecks of gold and green in them. He suddenly nodded, a satisfied smile on his face, as if he was satisfied with what he found. He stalked towards the kitchen, at the last moment turning his head to give her a lazy grin. "You said something about soup?"

* * *

A/N #2: Sorry this took so long. My father went into the hospital and _someone _(meaning me) had to keep him from pulling the IVs out of his arms and terrifying the nurses.

As an additional note, I've discovered that writing Shilo's character is damned difficult. I've known for two weeks how I wanted this chapter to play out and SHILO WOULDN'T STICK TO HER LINES. Now I have to make this longer. Darn. XD

I hope she came out okay in this chapter. It was like pulling teeth to get the beginning part done. I felt much more comfortable writing once I got Graverobber back in the game. : P In case you're wondering about Graverobber's initial hostility, he didn't know where he was, he had no pants, he hurts in places that he didn't know he had, and I'm pretty sure he has a moderate concussion. …Or maybe he's just a suspicious bastard.

C'mon people, I just gave you pants-less Graverobber. I can has reviews now? Pretty-please?


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following- Repo! The Genetic Opera, Oompa-Loompas, A Death Ray, Ewoks, Vin Deisel, Waffles, Harry Potter, World of Warcraft, The Coca-Cola Polar Bear, or the Budweiser Frogs. If I actually owned even one of these things, I'd be happy for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I'm just going to have to substitute most of these things with kidnapped circus midgets in funny costumes. For Repo, I can only play in the world with the characters without making any money at all. Not even Monopoly money. Curse you little Shoe, I'll melt you one of these days…

A/N: Sorry about how long this chapter took. Loads of real-life drama and some writer's block made things difficult. You guys have no idea how much I appreciate your reviews…when I come home and find a review in my inbox for my fic, it makes my writing juices percolate so I can get another chapter out. : P Thanks dudes. I'd also like to thank my lovely new Beta; Erii Broadway. She helped me get this chapter out.

* * *

"You can't just ignore your injuries! Without treatment you could die!"

Graverobber hid an amused smirk as Shilo continued to rant at him about his own apparent idiocy. It seems she'd managed to get over her bout of shyness around him. About damn time if you asked him.

He finished gingerly shrugging into his faithful coat, his shoulder was stiff, but he seemed to have retained full rotation.

"Graverobber!"

He turned his head and raised an eyebrow at his indignant Sparrow.

She childishly stomped one foot and scowled at him. "You're not listening to me!"

"Nope." He fully grinned when he saw her momentary gobsmacked expression.

"This is important, Graverobber. I'm not joking. Those wounds…" she started again.

Graverobber rolled his eyes and tuned her out again. Honestly. The concern for his wellbeing had been a new and interesting experience for all of… oh, about thirty seconds. Now it was just annoying and his little Sparrow was doing a good enough impression of a nagging girlfriend that Graverobber had the 'morning-after' itch between his shoulder blades and he wanted nothing more than to get gone and reestablish his masculine bachelorhood in the loudest most obnoxious way he could possibly manage.

Besides, if he were gone for too long, his devoted customers might decide to find a different dealer. And wouldn't _that_ put a nail through his shoe.

Shoe… Shoe… where the hell was his other shoe…?

A steady tapping sound pulled him out of his musing to look around for the source of the noise.

Shilo stood in the doorway, a ferocious scowl on her face and in her crossed arms she held his missing left boot, which she was tapping her nails on, in what he interpreted to be the universal sign of an annoyed female. Graverobber mentally calculated the likelihood of extracting his shoe from her grasp without her beginning to rant again and deemed the cause to be lost.

"Tell you what. You stop nagging, and I promise I'll…" He paused, trying to think of something minor and convenient that wouldn't involve him being in a hospital room. "…I'll…"

"Go see a doctor?" Shilo interjected.

Graverobber snorted. "Hell no."

"You owe me, you know. Seriously. I saved your life."

"Fine. Then I owe you." Shilo opened her mouth and Graverobber quickly amended his statement. "But I don't owe you enough for you to get me anywhere near a doctor." Shilo glared at him.

"You'd think you'd be grateful enough that you'd want to keep my efforts from being WASTED and NOT DIE."

"Aww, little Sparrow. I'm hurt. You think so little of my survival skills that I'd just up and die?"

"I think you were stupid enough to get shot, fall off a building, and go rolling around in garbage for a couple of hours before breaking into a highly guarded facility-" Graverobber snorted at the idea that the graveyard was 'highly guarded', but Shilo plowed on. "-_a highly guarded facility_," she grit out. "Only to collapse in plain sight where any idiot with a stick could find you and kill you."

"Well, that's what you were for, Sparrow. Look, I'm all healthy and alive thanks to my favorite recluse."

She gave a tiny flinch, enough for Graverobber to realize that something about that statement bothered her, but she rebounded to her former self quickly. Graverobber wondered where the hell this fiery-tempered and stubborn part of Sparrow's personality had been hiding all this time.

"I'm not a doctor. Which is what you need to see for your gunshot wounds."

Graverobber waved her statement away. "Those'll be fine. I don't need some quack poking his fingers into the holes in my back to tell me that they'll take such-and-such a time to heal and that I shouldn't get anything into the wound."

Shilo shook her head. "You're being an idiot!" Graverobber took advantage of her momentary distraction to drift closer to her and the doorway to freedom.

"Sparrow. Just this once? Trust me. You think this is the first time I've been shot? I'll. Be. Fine." He punctuated his last sentence to deftly grab his boot out of her hand.

"Hey!" She lurched forward and attempted to grab the boot back. Graverobber easily avoided her snatching fingers.

"Too slow little Sparrow." He taunted. A moment later, he dashed through the doorway she'd left unguarded when she'd moved towards him. One more annoyed female he'd manage to escape the clutches of.

Her garbled yell of frustration made Graverobber chuckle in delight.

* * *

Graverobber's relief of escaping lasted about fifteen minutes. At which point he realized that someone was running behind him. As he turned a corner he caught a brief glimpse of Sparrow running up the sidewalk.

"_Graverobber!"_

Huh. Persistent little songbird, wasn't she. Despite the smallest stirrings of admiration he held for her, Graverobber had things to do and Sparrow was NOT a part of any of those plans.

He waited for the breathless girl to turn the corner before he grabbed her and pulled her back into the shadows, one arm wrapped around her torso, pinning her arms to her side, and the other hand wrapped around her mouth, stifling any sound she might make. Her surprised yelp was very amusing, but her struggles against her unknown assailant were laughable at best and pitiful at worst. Graverobber's eyebrows furrowed as he realized several very important things.

One. His little Sparrow had certainly not taken any time to change into anything better suited for the cold and blustery weather before she'd come charging out here chasing after him. Two. If her stubborn streak was enough to make her come charging out of here and after him, it was unlikely that she would return to her house if he told her to go home. Three. Her struggles made it very obvious that she had absolutely no fighting skills at all, despite her elbows making new bruises on his ribcage. Four. She was a tiny wisp of a girl, which made a very appealing target for anyone who was up to no good.

The idea of anyone attacking his Sparrow made him want to growl and made him realize that, five, he was feeling irrationally protective of his songbird.

Her attempts at freeing herself were getting more and more frantic, indicating that her panic was increasing with every moment of being restrained. He released her and quickly spun her around to face him. She gasped and stumbled back a step. Her look of wide-eyed fear quickly morphed into relief in seeing him standing there rather than an unknown assailant. Graverobber felt a twinge of some forgotten feeling in his chest at that look.

Luckily, or rather, unluckily, her relief didn't last long and quickly morphed into an expression that Graverobber knew very well. Anger.

"You jerk!"

For a moment, Graverobber was sure his little Sparrow was going to try to hit him. She clenched her hand into a fist as her face scrunched in a scowl. She took a step forward…and stopped. Instead, she closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked silkily. As he casually buffed his dirty broken nails on his coat before examining them, Graverobber oh-so-carefully leaned against the alley wall, mindful of his injuries. His entire attitude was geared towards conveying boredom and negligence. He called it his patented _'I-don't-care-fuck-off'_ persona.

Shilo frowned at him. Good. She needed to go home. Now.

"What's wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you scared me?" she demanded.

He scoffed. He did that to shock some sense into her little head. "Go home."

Shilo stubbornly stuck her chin up. "No." He stared at her. She glared back.

A minute passed, then two. Neither moved.

Graverobber broke eye contact first, reluctantly rubbing his forehead with one hand. The faintest traces of a headache were making themselves known. He was tired, aching, and desperately wanting a drink. Shilo beamed in supposed victory.

"Look kid, I already told you I'm fine." Graverobber grumbled. "And to celebrate the fact that I'm still breathing, I'm going to the loudest, raunchiest, non-hygienic club in the city to knock back a couple before I snag some pretty peroxide-blonde to take back to my hole in the wall and have her give me a happy ending before I drink myself stupid. _Go home_." He repeated. Graverobber hoped that blunt honesty would succeed where scary intimidation had failed.

Shilo gaped for a moment, at a loss for words as she kept opening her mouth, and finding nothing to say in retaliation. Graverobber watched as a blush started creeping up her neck and into her face. While he would never admit it, he found her innocent reaction endearing. Reason number one-hundred-and-billion as to why he needed to keep her away from his lifestyle.

"Do you… Are you really going to do all that?" Shilo asked, while looking anywhere but at him.

He chuckled darkly and cocked his head to one side. "Why would I lie?"

"But… that's so…" Shilo paused.

"Empty." She finally finished.

Graverobber was stunned for a moment. _Empty_. His little Sparrow had no idea how accurate that was. Empty. Nobody to buy him drinks, or care if he went missing. Nobody waiting for him. Oh sure, once upon a time he may have had people he might have considered friends, but now they were all dead or gone. Nowadays, there was just Red. And she was more like a nosey landlord than a friend. An annoying, pain in his ass, waters down his booze, chases away his women, overcharges his rent, never fixes the goddamn water heater, landlord.

Hell, even Sparrow didn't really need him. Eventually she'd realize her full potential, and he'd be nothing more than a distant memory for her.

The silence stretched on, growing more and more uncomfortable as Graverobber lost himself in his continually depressing thoughts and Shilo resisted the urge to nervously fidget.

"I'm sorry." She blurted out. "It's none of my business…" she trailed off. As her blush renewed itself, she determinedly stared at the ground. Graverobber still didn't speak. He just watched the girl he knew would ultimately grow into her own wings.

Eventually, Graverobber pushed himself off the wall. "Go home, Sparrow." He called over his shoulder as he walked out of the alley.

"Wait…" A hand caught his sleeve, surprising Graverobber. Sparrow avoided touching like the plague was coming back in style. Intrigued, he paused, turning around to face Shilo. She'd finally given in to her urge to fidget, he noticed. Her weight was continually shifting from foot to foot, and her fingers were rubbing and twisting his sleeve. Her forehead had that dimple again; as her eyebrows furrowed while she thought with intense concentration. And yet, while she fidgeted, she kept silent. Graverobber guessed that she was having second thoughts about saying whatever she'd wanted to say.

"You know, Sparrow, if you just wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask." He teased with a small smirk.

She quickly dropped his sleeve and took a step back, an annoyed frown on her face. "Jerk." She muttered.

"If that's all…" he trailed off, looking longingly towards the alleyway entrance.

"Look, you shouldn't be…unsupervised."

Graverobber raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Unsupervised?"

Again, the stubborn chin came up. "Yes. Unsupervised. You're injured and you shouldn't be running around getting into trouble that might get you killed. Someone needs to keep an eye on you since you obviously can't take care of yourself."

"And I assume that person would be you, then?"

Graverobber saw the moment of indecision in her eyes, as her guilt and self-doubt came leaping to the forefront of her mind. However, Shilo's sense of responsibility gave her courage, and she defiantly met Graverobber's eyes and nodded. "Yes."

Graverobber sighed and stared at a crumbling brick about fifteen feet above his Sparrow's head while he contemplated the best course of action. He really _really_ wanted that drink. But Sparrow was obviously not going to go home anytime soon. If he ran, she'd follow. He'd tried scaring her, and unexpectedly felt guilty over it; and he knew he wouldn't be able to shatter the fragile trust they'd established just for the sake of getting her to go home. He'd tried blunt honesty- again, in a way to intimidate or embarrass her to get her to go home, and she'd managed to push through it all. Of all the times for her timidity to take a backseat to her stubbornness… Graverobber chuckled. Checkmate. Sparrow's game.

"I guess it's a party then." he said with amusement as he bowed and crooked his arm in her direction.

"Wha- Seriously?" Shilo asked. She narrowed her eyes. "You're not lying to me to try to lull me into a false sense of security just to run away as soon as my back is turned, are you?"

Graverobber gestured with his fingertips towards his own chest, as if to say, _'Who? Moi?'_ He winked at her.

"One time offer, little songbird. Take it or leave it. I want a drink, and I'm not staying in this shit-hole alley for another minute."

Shilo immediately grabbed his arm, looking a bit uncomfortable, but determined. Graverobber reached up with his free hand and gently patted her on the head. "Good girl."

"Bite me."

"All in good time, all in good time." Graverobber cheerfully replied. "But first, the drinks!"

* * *

Again, as before, if you enjoyed this, review! I'm serious when I say it helps me write the next chapter. Also- warm fuzzy feelings. ^_^

~~Elaana


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Do I have to do one of these every time? Okay. I own everything in this chapter that you don't recognize from the movie. I DON'T own Graverobber or Shilo. *pout*

A/N: Here's the next chapter. Sorry about the long wait. Everyone's reviews have been awesome! You guys keep giving me warm fuzzy feelings like a good shot of Rum. ^_^ Rum buddies!

* * *

Shilo cautiously raised the bright pink drink to her lips and took a tiny sip. It was tart and sweet, and she could barely taste that nasty aftertaste of alcohol.

"Graverobber!" she yelled, trying to get his attention. The club Graverobber had taken Shilo to was exactly as he'd said. It was loud, dirty, and- Shilo blushed as another waitress walked by wearing nothing but clear plastic and a few strategically placed pieces of electrical tape. Raunchy. Definitely raunchy. For the most part, Shilo kept her eyes glued to the scarred wooden surface of the booth they sat at. Graverobber hadn't said anything about naked girls running around! …Okay, they were mostly naked, but still! A lot of them kept getting nakeder! …Was nakeder a word? Nakedier? Nakeyer? Nakey? Shilo decided to stick with 'Sans Clothing'.

"Graverobber!" she tried again. She finally got his attention and he turned to grin at her. He raised an eyebrow in inquiry since it was too loud to really hear anything.

"What. Is. This?" she yelled, gesturing to the bright pink drink. It was pretty good. She'd like another one if she could keep from stuttering when the waitress came back.

He yelled something that was lost when a particularly loud group of cheers came from a couple of tables over where a blue-haired girl was- oh my god, was that anatomically possible?

"What!" she yelled.

"P-k Puffy!" he yelled back.

"Pick Puffy?"

"Pink! Pink P-fsy!"

Shilo still couldn't quite make out what the drink was called. Apparently, her confusion showed, because he rolled his eyes, snagged her sleeve and yanked her halfway around the table until he could yell in her ear.

"Pink! Pussy!"

This time Shilo had no problem hearing the name. She gaped at him. Graverobber gave her a giant grin in delight over her shock and licked one exposed canine tooth before he raised his shot glass full of something amber and downed it in one gulp.

Shilo decided she wasn't going to ask what was in her drink now.

* * *

She had her first moment of panic when Graverobber suddenly stood up and (after throwing a pile of crumpled creds on the table that he'd pulled out of a coat pocket. Look guys! Nothing up my sleeves! Hee…) stalked away from their table, making a 'stay' gesture at Shilo. Shilo's eyes widened. Oh no! Oh no, oh no, oh no! She started to try to stand up, but Graverobber (Wow, he was fast, did he use skates or something?) had already disappeared and a large group of drunken men and women stumbled past her table, obscuring him from view.

She hesitated. Maybe he was only going to the bathroom? If he was, Shilo was gonna have to ask him where it was when he came back, because she really needed to pee.

Oh no! What if he was going off to do something naughty? Shilo giggled for a second. She'd said the word naughty! (Nakid? Nekky? Sarges Clothing. Yeah. Surge Clothes-ss-ing.)

Shilo belatedly realized that she was still in a half crouched position over the table from her aborted attempt to stand up and follow Graverobber. She went to sit down, almost missing the chair. She flailed her arms for a moment before her hand smacked onto the table and gave her the necessary leverage she needed to fully scooch her fanny fully on the seat. (Whoopsidasiy! Fat fanny! Hee…)

Shilo celebrated her success of conquering the moving seat by taking another sip of her orange juice. What did the waitress call it? An orange… something. Orange…beasty? No… Orange…title? Orange-jack? Orange… Ter- no! Orange tundra! That was it! An orange tundra! She'd been so thirsty after those alcoholic things Graverobber had bought her, but when she'd asked for some water (carefully NOT staring at the waitress's candy-coated nipples) the waitress told her they didn't serve water. She'd asked for some juice and the waitress had brought over a tall glass of orange tundra-juice.

(A fuzzy part of her mind realized that her tongue was alternating between tingling and being numb, and quietly wondered if maybe the juice wasn't as innocent as she'd initially thought.) Shilo paused for a moment, what had she been thinking? She took another sip of her orange juice as she tried to remember.

You know… The waitresses weren't nearly as bad as she'd thought they were. They were probably cold and stuff, but they didn't look bad. And they were comfortable looking like that. She'd NEVER be able to do that. Not with her pale skin and her non-existant breasts and hips. She'd look like a mannequin wrapped in plastic. Oh and she'd DIE of embarrassment, of course.

"HEEEEEY!" Shilo heard. A moment later, the man who'd said it practically crashed on the table, his drink sloshing onto Graverobber's seat. "HEEEEY, YOOU. AINCHA S'POSSED TO BE DANCING?" He asked. "YOU S'POOSED TO BE WOOOORKING." The guy insisted.

Shilo leaned back in her seat, trying to get away from the stranger that had just sprawled across her table. She felt a pang of regret as the guy's flailing arms knocked over her orange juice (Adieu poor juice.) but was too focused on the stranger to pay too much attention to it.

"CAN'T- CAN'T- MAKE MONEY IF YOOOOUR JUSSssS SITTIN THERE. DANCE!" The guy hooted. "DAAAAAANCE!" he swung his drink around aimlessly, seeming to not care that there was barely enough liquid to coat the bottom of his glass.

Shilo shook her head, eyes wide. "I'm not-"

"WHAAAAA?" The guy rolled his head at her. "YOU NEED MONEEEY? I GOT MONEY! I GOT MONEY RIIIIGHT HERE!" the man grabbed his crotch. "YOU DAAAANCE! TAKE IT OFF AND LETSSS GET THE PARTY STARTED! WHOOOO!"

Shilo 'eep-ed' and tried to scoot her chair backwards, wobbling for a moment when her boots couldn't find traction on the suddenly slick floor.

Suddenly, there was a huge guy picking up the drunk guy (Who let's drunk people in here, seriously?) by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him off the table.

"That's enough out of you, Mickey Sloan!" The man- no, the woman- shook the drunk guy, making his head jerk back and forth on his neck, reminding Shilo of the dolls she used to play with when she was young. (Look daddy, Drucilla and I are having a tea party, do you wanna have biscuits and tea with us?)

"You're behind on your bar tab AGAIN, Sloan! I catch you in here again without some serious cred in your pockets and I'm gonna VERY. ANGRY." She shook him, punctuating her last words. "You don't pay enough to be a drunken nuisance and bother my paying customers!" Another firm shake. "You're gonna get your pasted ass outta my bar or I'm gonna have my boys throw you out, we clear?" She emphasized this with another shake.

Shilo watched, fascinated, as the guy seemed to turn a sickly green color. She knew what that color meant…

Apparently, the huge woman knew too. "And don't you even THINK about throwing up on my new Vida Chachis or I'm gonna use your HIDE to make a new pair, understood?"

The drunk man, looking very small and deflated (maybe it was just because of the HUGE red-headed woman that was holding him up) gave a loose nod and clapped both his hands over his mouth.

"I'm glad we UNDERSTAND each other. Now get the fuck out!"

And the woman, looking like she was doing no more than tossing a dish rag, chucked the guy sideways and towards the door. The man landed with an almost comical splat, face first on the floor and he groaned, but slowly got his hands and feet underneath him and crawled towards the door.

The huge woman nodded, looking satisfied, and dusted her hands off in a perfunctory manner before she turned her gaze on Shilo.

"You need a new drink, honey? On the house." The woman said.

Shilo, wide-eyed, kind of nodded and shook her head at the same time. Anything to keep her from being thrown across the room.

"What kind of drink you had?" she asked.

"Umm…" Shilo frantically tried to think of the name of what she had. Tortuga… no… Orangutan… no! Ahh!

The woman's eyes narrowed. "You drunk too?" she asked.

Shilo frantically shook her head. "No m'am!" (Shilo could imagine it in her head: The woman would pick her up and chuck her over her shoulder, but Shilo was easily three Kilo's lighter than the drunken man, and she'd splat against that wall and she'd just be a little Shilo smudge on the wall…)

The woman snapped her fingers and suddenly, the waitress that had been serving her and Graverobber was at the woman's side. "You know what the porcelain doll was drinkin?" she asked the waitress, dismissing Shilo.

The waitress nodded. "Orange Tundra."

"Get her another one. And you make sure the girls ain't giving that no-good GRAVEROBBER any freebies, you understand? His rent's late!"

The waitress nodded and the large intimidating woman (finally!) started walking away, leaving Shilo (whole and unsplatted) at her table. The thumping music started again (when had it died?) and everyone went back to their business.

Shilo blinked, did she say Graverobber?

A heavy hand landed on Shilo's shoulder, and Shilo craned her head up- up- up, expecting to see Graverobber back from the restroom. (She really really had to pee.) It took a second of staring to realize that A) Graverobber was not black, and 2) this guy was gi-normus! Like, huge!

"Your head is really shiny." Shilo blinked, who'd said that? She looked around, expecting to find someone else sitting at her and Graverobber's table, but whoever it was had already left.

"-alone?"

Shilo's looked back up at the giant. "Wha?" she asked.

"I said, are you here all by yo'self?" The giant's voice was low and booming and she could barely distinguish it from the heavy thump-thump-thump of the music the club (bar? Nakid-people-R-us?) was playing.

Shilo thought about it for a minute. "No, I'm here with Graverobber." she finally admitted. "Are you a giant?" she suddenly asked.

The giant man chuckled and grinned, revealing the whitest teeth Shilo had ever seen. "Could be." He said. "Little thing like you shouldn't be sitting alone." He said, stretching 'thing' out and kinda drawling it 'Tha-a-a-ng'.

"I'm here with Graverobber." Shilo repeated.

"Uh-huh. And I s'pose he'll be back Any-Minute. Right?" he said.

Shilo nodded.

The giant gave another big grin. "Then why don't you come sit with me and my boys till your man gets back." He offered.

Shilo looked over the table that the drunk man had just sprawled over. (DAAAANCE! TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF AND DAAAAANCE!) She really didn't like being alone- especially in a place like this…

Shilo had meant to say, 'Okay, but only until my friend gets back.' And instead, heard herself saying, in a quite frank voice, "I really have to pee."

The man threw back his head and laughed in great booming heaves. "A'aight. I get it. You gotta think about it. That's cool." He pointed over to the right. "Restrooms are over there." He said. "And me and my boys are sitting over there." He pointed to a table a couple of tables over from where Shilo was sitting. Shilo easily recognized what table he was pointing at; it was full of huge black guys. "You come say hello if you don't wanna be waiting for your man by yo'self. You ain't gotta worry 'bout my boys and me, you see." He started to explain. "We's all come from big families, you know?" he asked. Shilo didn't know, but didn't bother interrupting him. "And you, well, you look like somebody's little sister is all, and this ain't no place for a little thing like you to be alone in. Wouldn't be able to look my momma in the face, something happen to you." He explained.

Shilo nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

The giant shrugged as he turned away, the rippling movement made Shilo think of shuddering mountains. "Wouldn't want any of my baby sisters drinking alone in a place like this, I figure." Was his parting comment.

_But I'm not alone,_ Shilo thought. _I came here with Graverobber._ Yet she noticed that the direction Graverobber had disappeared in was in the opposite direction of the restrooms.

* * *

Shilo shuddered as she stepped out of the restroom and back onto the main floor. (Oh-my-god, oh-my-god, oh-my-god…) The experience was horrifying and disgusting. And that was BEFORE a pair of panties had landed in her stall while she was trying to pee.

A look over at the table Shilo had been at with Graverobber revealed that Graverobber still wasn't back yet, and that several strangers were sitting around the table instead while a woman was dancing on top of it and she was-

Shilo quickly turned around and looked for the giant's table instead, sighing in relief when she saw that they were still there. Shilo quickly made her way to their table, mostly keeping her eyes on the floor to try and avoid seeing anything too traumatizing. At least THEY didn't have anybody dancing on top of their table…

"Hey! Little Cousin!" the giant she'd met before exclaimed.

Shilo hesitantly raised one hand and offered a little wave. She suddenly realized that she didn't even know the giant's name.

"Umm…"

"You sit here, little cuz." The giant said, gesturing to the seat next to him. "And lemme introduce you around. This is Big John, Brass, Lil Tommy, Douglas, Koffee, and Bubba."

Shilo shyly took a seat and nodded at the men she'd been introduced to.

"Don'chu believe a word this honkey has tol'chu, girl." Big John said, gesturing with a thumb at the Giant. "Boomer here would tell his momma she was white iffen he thought he'd get away with it."

The group of men roared with laughter, Boomer obviously living up to his nickname.

"You gonna introduce us to your long lost cousin, Boomer?" one of the other men asked. Shilo thought he may have been Douglas, or maybe Koffee.

"Shit, y'all, haven't even learned that m'self." Boomer drawled. "G'on girl, you tell us what you call a little thing like yourself." His huge arm nudged Shilo, almost knocking her off the seat.

"Um…Shilo." She said nervously.

"Well, hell." One of the other men said. "I guess she is your long lost cousin, Boomer. Your uncle been stepping out on Teresa?"

"Don'chu be talkin' bout my aunt like that, Tommy-boy, I kicked your ass when you were young, I can still do it now." Boomer said, using a beer bottle to point at the man.

The men roared with laughter again, clinking bottles and glasses together.

Shilo gave a small smile. Huh. These guys weren't half bad.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Boomer, Bubba, Brass, Big John, Douglas, Koffee, and Lil Tommy- AKA, The Brute Squad- are all mine. Everything else vis-à-vis Repo doesn't belong to me. *sigh*

A/N: I just got 50 reviews. Therefore, I am posting this early as a thank-you. I'm not quite sure how I managed to do something this successful, but hell if I'm gonna ruin a good run. Here's the highly anticipated Graverobber chapter.

PS- Reviews are like magical writing energy. Nirvana. Ambrosia of the Gods. …you get the idea. ^_^ Since I've decided that reviews are addicting, I'll make my readers a deal: When I get 15 reviews, and I'll post the next chapter! The incentive? How about the pants-less moment that happens in the next chapter? Bwhahahah!

* * *

Graverobber was bright and chipper as he buttoned his pants and tucked his shirt back in. Nothing like a nice Happy Ending to make a man feel alive, he thought as he walked out of the back room and back onto the main floor. Didn't matter that he needed to refill on Z now, or that the nail marks down his back burned and would itch like hell tomorrow. Hell no! Because he'd gotten his drink on, he'd gotten laid, and he'd managed to do it all without letting anything happen… to… his… Sparrow?

Where the hell was Sparrow?

Graverobber spun around, thinking he hadn't been looking in the right direction. Meaningless faces spun through his vision, but none of them were attached to a tiny wisp of a girl with too big eyes and black satin hair. He spun around again, perhaps hoping that his sparrow would suddenly be there like a magic trick, but the wrong woman appeared.

As Graverobber finished his spin, he crashed into a very solid, warm presence that was accompanied by the smell of pipe smoke and cheap perfume. He stumbled back a step, already knowing who he'd crashed into.

"Graverobber!"

"Madam Red." Graverobber said, pretending to tip a hat that didn't exist. "Lovely to see you again, however, I have pressing business to see to…"

A large meaty hand latched onto the lapels of Graverobber's coat, and his still-sore shoulder desperately wished that they weren't going to do any aerobatics today.

"Oh no you don't." Red grumbled. "Your rent is two days late! Give me one good reason I shouldn't take you out back and break your legs."

Graverobber gave her his most charming smile. "My dear friend," Red snorted, but Graverobber continued. "Surely in your ransacking of my apartment, you'll have noticed that I haven't been there in over three days. Fate has kept me from-"

Red gave Graverobber a brief professional shake, making Graverobber's head snap back and forth. He HATED it when she did that. She knew he hated it. "Don't feed me your bullshit. Rent. Now."

Graverobber felt his pleasant mask fade away as his various injuries protested the rough treatment, and his conscience was screaming at him to find Sparrow NOW. A chilly ice settled in Graverobber's eyes as his hand wrapped around Red's meaty forearm and firmly pinched the nerve that made her hand involuntarily fall open, releasing him from her grip.

"You'll get your money when I damn well feel like getting it to you, Red. What with my being gone for so long, I'd like to verify that my apartment doesn't have some fuck-head living in it before I pay you." Graverobber glared at her as he smoothed down the lapels of his jacket.

"Please," Red sneered. "Like anybody would want to live in that worthless rat's nest you've created."

"Couldn't find any takers since I've been gone, could you? Well, isn't that just too bad." Graverobber mocked.

"Watch your mouth, you gutter rat. Your ass could probably fetch me a couple of creds with the GEnforcers." Red warned.

Graverobber grinned at the empty threat. "You can only turn my hide in once. I pay you more in rent than what they'd give a skel like you."

Red snarled and turned away, knowing she'd lost the battle. "Your drinks and whores are double until you get me my rent money!"

"Your whores love me and your booze tastes like yak's piss!" Graverobber called after the matron. Now if he could just find out where the hell his sparrow went off to…

* * *

The first thing that grabbed Graverobber's attention was the fact that someone had managed to start a drinking song in Red's. It wasn't exactly an easy task considering the place tended to favor music that was heavy on the bass. Easier to have the girls dance to something with a beat.

"_A barrel of malt, A bushel of hops, you stir it 'round with a stick,  
The kind of lubrication to make your engine tick."_

The second thing Graverobber noticed was that several of Red's girls were in the crowd that had surrounded the table that the singing seemed to originate from.

_Forty pints of wallop a day will keep away the quacks,  
But beware the repo man luv, it's your liver out on tax!  
One, two, three, four, five__-"_

The last thing Graverobber noticed was that the singers of the song were so large, they made Red seem dimunitive in stature. Probably Farm-stock. Visiting the city perhaps? Obviously not locals- not with the accents and the clothes. Graverobber smirked. Fodder for the streets, really. They'd get rickshawed by the first matchstick-man they came across.

A moment later, Graverobber dismissed them from his mind. He needed to find Sparrow.

Cotton candy hair caught his eye, and he made a beeline for the dimunitive woman who seemed to be bringing another round of bottles to the singing table. He'd known Star for a while, she owed him a favor, and she always had her eyes open. If anybody might know where Sparrow went, it'd be her, or at least, she'd be able to find out where she went.

"_Oh, he ought to be an admiral, a sultan, or a king_

_And to his lovely praises we shall always sing-"_

* * *

Shilo drunkenly slurred along to the song, sloshing around the bottle of… whatever it was she had in her hand. The other arm was wrapped firmly around the head of… John? Bubba? One of the giants anyways. Shilo giggled and looked around the room, figuring that this must be what the world looked like to tall people.

* * *

_Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer_

_God bless Charlie Mops, he's the man who invented beer!"_

Graverobber grabbed Star by the arm as soon as she'd deposited the latest round of beer at the table, amid much cheering, both for the song and for the refills.

Star turned around, and Graverobber recognized the look on her face as the look of someone that was about to relocate your balls into your throat. He let go of her arm and gave her a disarming grin while holding his hands up.

"Hold it, luv. Just your friendly neighborhood Graverobber."

Star rolled her eyes. "I oughta deck you." She groused, but there was no venom in her voice. "Get outta here, I'm workin."

"Need a favor."

Star scoffed. "No way. Red'll dock me if she even suspects I'm giving you freebies." She said as she turned away.

Graverobber nimbly stepped around her, blocking her path to the bar. "Just information, I promise." A small roll of creds seemed to magically appear between his fingers and he held it out to her with an entreating look on his face.

Star stared at the cash and sighed, taking the money and slipping it into her faux seashell bra. "This better be quick."

"I came in with a tiny girl, smaller than you, with dark hair and dark eyes…" Graverobber started.

Star grinned. "I love it when you're easy, babe." She said, patting Graverobber on his pale cheek, inturrupting his explanation. Star turned and pointed back to the table she'd just come from. "Little half pint is doing a Pippi Longstocking on the shoulder of one of those farm boys."

Star started walking away, leaving a parting comment to a dumbfounded Graverobber. "I wouldn't be surprised if you had to go home alone, Graverobber, she looks pretty chummy with those boys."

Sparrow? His sparrow? No fucking way was he letting anybody take his sparrow anywhere.

As Graverobber stalked determinedly to the table, a loud cheer went up and he realized that someone was standing on the table. Someone with long dark hair and pale skin. Sparrow. The crowd around the table seemed to contract around the table, around his sparrow, and Graverobber had to fight his way through the crowd.

A surprisingly sweet soprano voice pierced the air, and the cheering crowd seemed to hush.

"_In Dublin's fair city,  
Where the girls are so pretty,  
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,  
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,  
Through streets broad and narrow,  
Crying, 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!'_  
_Alive, alive, oh,  
Alive, alive, oh,  
Crying 'Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!'"_

By the second line, Graverobber realized it was his sparrow. By the third, he'd made his way through the crowd and up to the table itself. By the sixth, Graverobber was dumbfounded by the fact that Shilo was, obviously and completely, plastered.

As Shilo finished the refrain of the song, her vacant stare passed over the crowd and her eyes locked with Graverobber's. She stumbled, and Graverobber snarled as one of the black farm-boys reached up and steadied her with his hands on her waist.

"Graverobber!" She cried happily, forgetting that she'd been singing a song. She turned her face upward and smiled at the giant guy leaning over her. "It's Graverobber!" she told him in a happy voice. "He had to go, but he's back now. He always comes back. Sometimes he takes a long time, but he's always back before I miss him too much." She said matter-of-factly.

Giant _dead_ guy, Graverobber corrected himself with another angry snarl, if he didn't get his hands off of his sparrow, right. The fuck. NOW.

Before Graverobber could do anything, two very large, very heavy hands landed on both of his shoulders.

"Hey y'all, this here's little cuz's missing man." A deep voice boomed. Graverobber craned his head up. Shit. They were all big mo'fos weren't they, he noted. They'd probably been eating their wheaties since before they could walk. Made it harder to kill them all, but not impossible.

"A'aight! Break it up, y'all!" Another man boomed. The crowd, seeing that their entertainment was finished, started reluctantly dispersing.

"Sparrow." Graverobber said, with as much calm as he could manage. "Let's get you off the table, shall we?"

"Ooookie-doookies!" Shilo happily cheered. She twisted for a moment, and almost fell off the table with a 'whoops!' before the big guy who'd been touching her caught her again and lifted her off the table. Graverobber ground his teeth.

"Thank-yew Boo-oo-mer!" Shilo said with a big smile at the man. Big _Dead_ man. Graverobber reminded himself.

Graverobber shrugged and tried to dislodge the hands on his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow up at one of the men. "Do you mind? You're not exactly my type." He said.

The man shrugged. "Nope."

Graverobber resisted the urge to bare his teeth at them man and instead rolled his eyes. Of course the giant buffoons wouldn't understand sarcasm, they probably didn't even know what the word meant, let alone how to spell it.

"Graverobber!" Shilo exclaimed again. And with a stumble, she was around the table, and hugging him.

Graverobber staggered under the blow, both physically, because Shilo practically tackled him, and metaphysically, because Shilo wasn't exactly the touchy-feely type. His arms seemed to wrap around her- to keep her from falling, he told himself.

"You okay, Kid?" he asked, putting one hand under her chin to tilt her head up to look at him. Her eyes were wide and glassy and her cheeks were flushed. Graverobber was bemused by the fact that this was probably the first time he'd ever seen her, well, happy.

"Uh-huh!" Shilo agreed, with an exaggerated nod of her head before she laid her head on Graverobber's chest again.

"Have any trouble?" he asked with a casual lightness to his voice.

Shilo raised her head up again to look at him. "Uh-huh!" she agreed. "There was this-s-s guy and he wuz-z-z DRUNK!" Shilo exclaimed. "An- an this scary lady came, an I had to pee, but thass okay, cuz Boomer told me where it was, and I never want to pee again! But the lady threw him out." she finished.

Graverobber blinked. Right.

"Who're your new friends?" he asked.

"Oh! Thass Boomer 'n John 'n Bubba 'n… er…" she paused. "And John…" Shilo giggled. "Your forehead is HUGE!" she exclaimed. "An' Koffee taught me a drinkin' song! Wanna hear it?" She asked before taking a deep breath and yelling, "Ooooh! BEER! BEER! BEER!"

Graverobber clapped a hand over Shilo's mouth, "That's nice luv." He said. Shilo giggled from behind his hand.

"You's Shilo's man?" one of the dead men walking asked Graverobber. "Cuz me and my boys, we got a bone to pick wif choo."

"That's one way of putting it." Graverobber said lightly as he tried to keep Shilo from falling on the floor when she suddenly decided that her feet didn't need to keep her standing. Graverobber glanced up and locked eyes with the man. "Another way of putting it is, I'll break your neck if you so much as look at her wrong." Graverobber said with a cheerful voice as he finally solved his problem by hauling Shilo into his arms and cradling her against his chest. Shilo seemed agreeable with this idea as she looped her arms around his neck and snuggled her head against his chest again.

Graverobber briefly wondered where the hell Shilo's boots had gone off to, but was distracted by the fact that he realized her legs felt so silky because she was wearing stockings. Who the hell wore stockings with big clunky combat boots?

The big guy frowned and crossed his arms. "You city folk ain't got a lick of manners in the lot of ya." He stated. "An' what kind of fried-chicken-shit leaves his woman to fend for herself in a place full of jugs and shoots?"

Before Graverobber could reply, Shilo sleepily cracked one eye open and frowned at the big black guy. "John, be nice, kay?"

'John' snorted. "You sure you wanna leave with this fish-belly, little cuz?"

Shilo nodded. "Graverobber's my friend…" she sleepily muttered and her arms briefly tightened around his neck. Graverobber felt that odd pang in his chest again, and wondered if he possibly had heartburn.

One of the other big black guys stepped between Boomer and Graverobber. "You heard her, Big John, she's happy where she's at."

"Ain't right for some city-trash-"

"She happy where she at, hoss." The guy interrupted. "Boy made a mistake he ain't gonna make again. You leave him be."

John considered the words for a minute, then nodded. "A'aight."

"She's got the Malcom family at her back now, you hear that City-boy?" one of the other men spoke up, his chin tilted in a stubborn angle and his beefy arms crossed across his expansive chest. For the love of Z, this guy could probably bench a cow.

"Hush, Douglas! I'll handle this." The big guy in front of Graverobber insisted. Graverobber pegged him as the unofficial leader of the brawny group.

"As for you," the guy said, turning back around to face Graverobber. "You gonna lose what's in your arms, you keep treating her like she's something expendable. Girls like her break real easy when you don' treat 'em gentle-like."

Graverobber's eyes narrowed as he looked at the man. Only Sparrow would find the only protective lunks in the entire city to get drunk with… Graverobber resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

For a single moment, Graverobber considered verbally lashing the man to pieces. Then his common sense knocked him over the head and reminded him that he had an unconscious girl in his arms, and the giant had five giant friends, and Red would love to have a reason to eviscerate him. It galled him to no end, but he reluctantly let go of his vague plans of vengeance and settled for planning mischief for them in the near future… You know, when the odds were manipulated to be better for himself and worse for them.

Rickshawed? Pff, Graverobber would make sure they left the city sans the clothes on their backs.

"Yeah. I think we understand each other." Graverobber finally said. He nodded at the big black guy, who nodded back, and turned around to take Shilo to his little hole in the wall before she puked all over Red's floors. Because, well, see previous statement about evisceration.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own the pain of hang-overs, Repo, Shilo, or Graverobber. Anything that doesn't show up in the movie is property of my insanity. Do not try to ride elephants without the proper equipment, and never ever drink your own body weight in mixed drinks.

A/N: Gah. I actually got up to 65 reviews. Everybody thank Silver Thorns for making this happen with her nice review asking for an update. ^_^. Enjoy Chapter 8… or as my friend dubbed it, The Morning After With Pantless Interlude. Thanks G. Update to follow… eventually.

* * *

Snow… the white flakes swirled around her…

"_Daddy, can we play outside today?"_…

Oh god, not again…

…Shilo…

No… No, she didn't want to see the dream, didn't want to…

"_Daddy, can we play outside today?"_

"_Shilo, you know you can't go outside in your condition. What if you have another attack? God forbid you pick up some stray bug. Your immune system is too delicate. Maybe if your new treatment works, you can play out in the snow next year."_

"_But Daddy…"_

"_Shilo! This is my final word on this subject. Do you understand?"_

"…_yes…"_

"_Good girl. Now recite twelve types of antibiotics based off of __a 6-aminopenicillanic acid with a side chain attached to the 6-amino group, in alphabetical order."_

"_Amoxicillin, ampicillin, augmentin…"_

…Shilo…

_Blood in the snow… Why couldn't she breathe…drowning… please, someone help…Daddy…_

"_Shilo!"_

_Arms circling her, pulling her out of the bloody snow, so cold…_

"_What did I tell you, Shilo!"_

"_I'm…sorry…"_

"_Don't speak! The capillaries in your lungs are rupturing from the induction of cold air to your lungs. Keep still- no, don't touch the mask, Shilo! Keep it on!"_

"_Just…wanted to… dance…snowflakes…"_

"_Godammit, Shilo! Be quiet so the gas can stabilize your lungs!"_

"_Daddy…"_

…Shilo…

_Momma? Momma, I'm sorry I couldn't dance with the snowflakes. Daddy said you used to love to dance in the snow… Please don't be angry momma…_

"Sparrow! For the love of Z kid, stop crying…" It took Shilo a moment to realize that whoever was calling her name wasn't in her dream.

Her eyeballs seemed reluctant to roll in their sockets, and she imagined that this was what it felt like to have wooden splinters and dust poured into her eyes.

"Whuuug…" was all her sore throat could produce.

"Sparrow? You waking up? Say something, or I'll douse you in water."

She tried opening her eyes, and suddenly the dormant wooden splinters became shards of glass going through her skull. Oh god…why wasn't she dead?

"Ug…"

She tried to throw an arm over her eyes, to protect it from the stabby light, and missed, knocking her arm into something.

"Fuck! I was kidding about the water! No need to try to decapitate me!"

Shilo whimpered as the loud sound seemed to reverberate in her head like a well placed tuning fork. Oww… No more loud sounds…please…

Somehow she managed to turn on her side and press her face into her pillows. The soothing scent of lavender and… chamomile… wait-a-minute…

"Why do my pillows smell like stale sweat and cigarettes?" her question was muffled into the pillow she'd realized wasn't hers, and that the light was shining into the room from the wrong side for this to be her bedroom. Somehow, she couldn't make herself care through the pain of her head that she seemed to be someplace strange that she didn't remember getting to. That and her head was too heavy to lift out of the pillow.

"What was that, kid? SOMEBODY seems to have knocked my hearing out of my left ear."

It took Shilo a moment to realize that she knew the voice speaking to her. Graverobber. _Just your friendly neighborhood Graverobber!_ Oh god, it's too painful for there to be voices in her head. She groaned again.

"Christ kid, I don't think I've seen anybody drink like that since the wino next door moved out… or died…I don't actually remember. However, he no longer lives there and I think you may have been able to drink him under the table last night."

Drinking… she didn't drink. Besides, alcohol tasted disgusting… Shilo's brain suddenly supplied the memory of something sweet that tasted like peaches and something tangy that tasted like oranges. Orange juice? What? Oh god, why was her brain broken…?

"I don't drink." Shilo mumbled into the pillow.

"Beg to differ, lovey. My vomit encrusted shoes are a tad put out with you too."

Vomit? She threw up? That explained the kitty-litter taste that lingered in her mouth.

Something poked her in the shoulder. She shrugged her shoulder and tried to stop thinking since it seemed to make the pounding in her head deepen.

Something poked her shoulder again, and she groaned and flopped one arm out, trying to bat at whatever was poking her. Suddenly, something seemed to walk down her spine, causing her to yelp and thrash.

With a crash, she fell off the side of the bed, her limbs tangled in surprisingly soft blankets. Oh god, her head… Shilo clutched her head, trying to keep her brains from sloshing out of her ears. She whimpered again. Why wasn't she dead again?

A deep chuckle seemed to emanate from above her and Shilo _carefully_ glared upwards. Graverobber was peering over the side of the bed, laughing at her.

"Serves you right." He said with a smug tone.

"Why…?" Shilo tried to ask why he hated her so much, but her mouth was all dry and cottony.

Graverobber grinned. "You have no concept of sharing, pet."

"Wha?" she asked weakly. Keeping still seemed to help with the pounding behind her temples, so the throbbing in her hip decided it was time to make itself known. She absently rubbed the sore spot that seemed to have collided with something solid in her drop.

"The bed." Graverobber started to explain. "You're a horrible bed-mate, you know. Kicking and rolling, stealing the blankets and pillows, crying and getting things all soggy…"

It took a moment for the words to actually penetrate Shilo's head, especially since she was trying to untangle the blankets around her waist so she could look at her hip.

"What?" she yelped, forgetting that sudden movements were very bad as she whipped her head up to stare at Graverobber with wide eyes. Share bed what?

"…In fact," Graverobber continued blithely on, "Since you're so bad with this whole sharing concept, you can just sleep on the floor there and I'll keep the bed- which I deserve, thank-you-very-much, after having to deal with a belligerent drunk girl for half the night. One I don't even get to look forward to nailing, by the way."

Shilo gaped like a fish, her mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out.

Graverobber paused while examining her fingernails, something he'd stared doing at the beginning of his speech, and gave Shilo what she could only describe as a wicked grin. "Maybe next time I won't save you from the farm boy giants and let them take care of you while you're drunk off your ass and hanging off of their shoulders."

Oh-God-Oh-God-Oh-God-Oh-God… Shilo whimpered and clutched her head again as she lowered it to rest her forehead on her knees. What the hell had she been doing last night? She tried to remember… Lights…dancing half naked girl…throbbing music… the ghostly taste of peaches and oranges washed over her tongue again and her stomach gave a protesting flop… Graverobber leaving…

"You left me!" Shilo accused weakly as she remembered Graverobber disappearing and leaving her alone in the middle of the bar.

"Pff." Graverobber said from somewhere above her, who'd disappeared from her view. A moment later a pillow slapped her in the face. She made a disgusted face as she realized the pillow was damp. "You were the one bawling drinking songs from the top of a table when I came back." Graverobber grumbled. "Now leave me alone, I'm tired."

Drinking songs? She didn't know any drinking songs. Shilo wished she could just call Graverobber a liar and be done with it, but she couldn't think of any time when he'd actually lied to her. _Sweet Molly Malone…_ The words whispered through her head. Who?

Hazy pictures and scenes whirled through Shilo's head, and very few of them made sense to her. What did she do last night? Earlier tonight? Shilo didn't know what time it was.

"Graverobber…" Shilo said hesitantly. Why couldn't she remember what she'd done?

"Kid… I'm tired, sore, and possibly hung over. Can we talk about your escapades in the morning?" a tired voice above her asked. "Some of us haven't had a chance to sleep in a drunken stupor yet."

Shilo felt a burning flush creep up her neck and into her face. Great. Not only was she bothering Graverobber now, but apparently, she was a horrible drunk. She was a buffoon… and idiot…a… …

Wait-a-minute…

Shilo's hands fumbled under the twisted covers, running over her injured hip. It took a moment of shuffling but she finally got the covers unwound.

"WHERE ARE MY PANTS?" Shilo's voice hit a dangerously high pitch as she attempted to focus on not. Freaking. Out.

From the bed, Graverobber made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a kicked dog whimpering.

Shilo's hands fumbled with the covers, rewrapping them around her waist as thoroughly as possible. It seemed like each breath whistled through an impossibly small straw in her throat. Her hands shook and trembled. Her head throbbed. What did she do last night? What did she do?

Graverobber's pale visage appeared at the edge of the bed again, deep dark circles under his eyes, enhancing his naturally pale skin and making him look like death warmed over.

"Sparrow…Shilo… I'm going to explain this once, slowly and clearly, because if I don't get to sleep in the next two minutes, I won't be responsible for my actions. Peachy?"

Shilo nodded mutely.

"You remember drinking with me?"

She nodded.

"And you remember my leaving?"

Another nod.

"Good. I came back to find you drunk and singing along with a bunch of Corn-bread Farm boys who'd decided that you're their long lost cousin or wife or some shit. But you seemed pretty happy where you were, smiling and dancing and hanging off them like a monkey."

Shilo opened her mouth to ask a question, only to snap her mouth shut when Graverobber glared at her.

"Shush. My turn for talkies."

_Talkies?_ Shilo mouthed to herself, but Graverobber was already continuing on.

"I valiantly fought for your honor, laying out those giant oafs like they were before I carried you out because you were too drunk to stand. Or speak. Or be conscious.

You were lucky my apartment is right above Red's. Otherwise, I might have left you in an alley to sleep your drunk off.

And what was my thanks? Your eternal gratitude? No. You wake up; ramble drunkenly about everything that struck your fancy, knocked me over when you tried to dance, and then puked on me when I tried to get you to go to sleep on the couch.

That's where your pants are, by the way. Vomit encrusted along with my couch and my shoes and my shirt…"

Graverobber visibly shuddered.

"Little half pints of girls shouldn't be able to projectile vomit. Defies every physics law known to man.

Anyways, after you did that, you passed out again. So, me, being such a kind and gentlemanly figure, put you to bed in my own bed, deciding that after such an impressive display of power vomiting, you couldn't possibly have anything left to throw up, short of your internal organs. And yes, I took your pants off. I wasn't letting your vomit end up in my bed, thank you very much.

And there, you proceeded to kick me, punch me, roll on me, drool on me, steal my pillows and blankets, CRY on my pillows and blankets, and make such a nuisance of yourself that I finally decided to SCREW gentlemanly protocol and got your tiny bed hogging ass onto the floor where you couldn't abuse me and my things anymore."

Graverobber shot another glare at Shilo.

"And that, Princess, is THAT. Now go to sleep. You can sleep on the bed when you learn how to be a considerate bed partner."

And Graverobber flopped out of sight again. Presumably to go to sleep.

Shilo, however, didn't fall asleep until far later, trying to pinpoint exactly when her head should have exploded to keep her from this most mortifying situation. She drooled?


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Repo. I don't own Graverobber. I don't own his pants or lack thereof. I don't own Shilo, her bugs, or her mom's tomb. However, I do own The Brute Squad, Red, and- uh… oh yeah, you guys haven't met _them_ yet. Muhahaha.

A/N: It seems like it's been forever since I last updated this, sorry about that… Anyways, I'm sure you guys don't care about my RL, but a couple of major things happened, a couple of large decisions were reached, and I'm still working on a particularly cumbersome goal on my bucket list. Wish me luck! So! For the reader's amazing patience, here's the next installment of your Zydr- er- your Graverobber and Shilo fixes. ^_^

* * *

_The pulsing throb reverberated through the dark room. He saw a flash of white as the lights above flickered on and off in direct contrast to the throbbing of the room. Silky dark hair whipped across his chest as the elusive dancing figure avoided his grasp._

_He heard a giggle in front of him, but before he could take a step, he felt arms drape down his shoulders and a warm body pressed up against his back. The arms rested lightly against his skin, yet it seemed as if his body had turned to stone. "Sweet-sweet-molly…" a husky womanly voice whispered in his ear. "Sweet-sweet-molly…"_

_He knew that voice, yet the name was just beyond his reach. Just as the still dancing dark haired figure was beyond his reach. The woman behind him started swaying, pulling his body along, in a mockery of dancing. She was brokenly humming a melody that once meant something to him, yet, like the name, the significance escaped him. The throbbing beat seemed louder, but he couldn't raise his hands to cover his ears, so he closed his eyes instead. _

"_Graverobber…" the dancing figure never spoke, but the whisper came from her nonetheless, and a breeze of warm spring air hit him, like a physical blow. He staggered and opened his eyes. The lights flickered again and he caught another glimpse of pale white, this time recognizing it as milky white skin. Another flash of the dancing figure, then, suddenly he could see her wide brown eyes._

_The eyes held him captivated. Despite the totality of the darkness in the room, the brown eyes were a stark contrast seeming to glow from within. Graverobber stopped swaying along with the figure behind him as his eyes stayed locked with those soft brown doe-eyes._

_Sharp pain spiked through his body; ten individual points of pain. "Molly-molly-malone…" the husky voice behind him whispered again. Then her fingers flexed again and the nails dug deeper into his chest; a parody of a lover's embrace. Cold liquid seeped down Graverobber's chest, but he didn't dare look away from those brown eyes lest he lose them._

"_Miss Molly needs Zydrate, Graverobber." The voice behind him whispered silkily. "Just a hit…just a taste. Sweet… blue… cold…" And without looking, Graverobber knew he wasn't bleeding hot red blood, but cold blue Zydrate._

"_Graverobber…" the sweet voice whispered again._

"_No!" the husky voice behind him growled and tried to pull Graverobber back into the darkness, away from the brown eyes. "Feel the darkness, Graverobber…" the voice whispered into Graverobber's ear. "It embraces you. It loves you." And the throbbing in the darkness grew stronger until it seemed that the steady pulse was in control of Graverobber, controlling even his breathing._

"_Graverobber…" the sweet voice was faint. Smothered by the pulsing darkness. "I don't want to be alone, Graverobber…"_

_The darkness gave a particularly intense throb and Graverobber fell to his knees. In a blink, the eyes were gone, and Graverobber felt lost in the darkness. Cold fingers threaded through his hair and the figure behind him chuckled. "Too weak…" she hissed in triumph. "Too little, too late… Stupid girl…"_

_Something soft bumped into his chest, and Graverobber's hands came up and caught the soft fluffy ball before it hit the floor. The lights flickered again and Graverobber caught a glimpse of mottled brown feathers, an orange beak and a liquid brown eye before the darkness fell again. A sparrow._

* * *

"Graverobber!"

He jolted awake at the sound of a panicked voice. "Whuzzat?" he asked confusedly.

"Graverobber!" It took a moment, but Graverobber finally connected the panicked voice to a name. Shilo. Sparrow.

Shilo grabbed his arm and simultaneously shook his arm and tried to pull him out of bed. "Get up, get up! Hurry!"

Graverobber automatically resisted the tugging and blearily ran a hand over his face. "What're you twittering about now, Sparrow?" he asked only half paying attention. He'd been dreaming, hadn't he. He could only remember bits and pieces. Dancing… brown eyes… a body pressed up against his…

Graverobber frowned and subtly checked to make sure the blanket was still oh-so-casually pooled around his waist.

"Dammit, Graverobber! Pay attention! There's Gene Enforcers here! They're going to be at your door any second, we need to get out of here!" Graverobber, momentarily amused by Shilo's panicked attempts to lever his bedroom window open, didn't see the point in telling Shilo that he'd welded the window shut years ago.

Dismissing the remaining wisps of dreams from his immediate attention, Graverobber focused on the here-and-now. Namely, here with the frightened Sparrow.

"Calm down, pet." Graverobber said calmly as he lazily scratched his chest.

"CALM DOWN?" Shilo's voice was high and reedy. "HOW CAN I-"

"It's not like they're Repomen." Graverobber interrupted calmly. He didn't need Sparrow having a panic attack right now.

Graverobber's ears caught the muffled sound of doors being forcefully opened and loud voices. Familiarity with the practice of GE raids on his home let him easily identify that the GE's were still working the second floor. The paranoid junkie in the corner building would keep them occupied for a couple of minutes, but not much more.

"They can't do more that rough us up," Graverobber continued on. He stretched his hands above his head and arched his back, blissfully sighing as several vertebrae popped. "-and haul us to a holding facility for a couple of days."

Shilo, who'd had her face buried in her hands, suddenly looked up incredulously at his last statement. "How can you possibly…?" Her wide brown eye reminded Graverobber of something… -_wide soft doe eyes- _but he dismissed the erroneous thought.

"What?" he asked.

"Are you the ONLY person in the world who doesn't read a newspaper or watch announcements?"

Graverobber shrugged. "It's all gossip and propaganda. If it's important, I'll find out about it."

"So you KNOW that I'm supposed to be the inheritor for GeneCo and I went into hiding while the Largo siblings claimed the company?"

"Uhh…" Well, now that she mentioned it, he'd completely forgotten about that… hrm.

"And you know that there's a standing order to EXECUTE YOU on sight?"

"Please." Graverobber waved a hand like he could wave the statement away. "You have no idea how many of those things have been slapped on my head. It's just Amber's way of getting my attention when she's pissed."

"Fine." Shilo said shortly. "Go back to sleep while the Gene Enforcers kill me then!"

Graverobber rolled his eyes and stood up. "Nobody's dying." He grumbled.

"Then HOW-?" Shilo started.

"For Zydrate's sake, Sparrow! Can't a man take a piss before evading law enforcement?" Graverobber asked in exasperation as he made his way towards his bathroom. "They aren't even on the third floor yet. Go find some pants."

Over his shoulder, Graverobber saw that Shilo was blushing and looking at anywhere but him. Graverobber pushed away the thought that she looked cute when she was embarrassed.

"It's too early for this shit…" he mumbled under his breath as he shut the bathroom door.

* * *

Feeling much better without a full bladder, Graverobber started humming under his breath as he dramatically pulled back the shower curtain and snagged his coat off the rusted shower head. "One escape, coming up…" he muttered to himself as he shrugged his coat on.

"Sparrow!" Graverobber called out when he opened the bathroom door.

Her head poked around the corner of the hallway, looking at him in confusion.

"Get ready. We're gonna leave in a mo'." He said as he strolled into his living room. Unbothered by the heaps of trash and junk around the room, Graverobber stepped up to the front door and listened for a moment. A muffled crash was followed by the vicious barks of the dog kept in the apartment nearest the stairs. Now they were on his floor.

Graverobber smirked as he reached above his head and removed a 'T' shaped iron bar from above the doorway. He carefully set it against the floor, the 'T' upside down, with the two short arms set against the floor. It easily set into a groove set into the floor, and the arms hooked ju-u-ust right into the seemingly random cracks in the carpeted floor. The long part of the bar fit snugly into a latched bar just below his doorknob.

"Time to go, Sparrow." Graverobber whispered.

"Where?" Shilo asked in a whisper. "That's the only way out unless the window opens."

"Please. I'm the Graverobber. Of course there's another way out." Graverobber smirked and grabbed Shilo's hand as he passed. He pulled her through the dingy apartment back to the bathroom.

He pulled her in and shut the door.

"Uhh…" Shilo said nervously, looking around in the tiny space.

He shushed her and rummaged around in his coat pockets. "Where did I…" he mumbled. "Ah!" he crowed triumphantly as he pulled out a small grey disk. He fiddled with it for a moment before it suddenly expanded into a crowbar.

He was quietly humming once again as he set the crowbar's clawed edge against the tiled wall the marked the shower stall's area. Then he heaved.

Shilo gaped as a three foot hole was revealed behind the wall that Graverobber had just pulled open.

A large crash echoed throughout the bathroom and Graverobber frowned in annoyance. "Damn, just got that door to close properly in the frame too…" He made a mental note to scavenge for a new door the next time he was coming back to his apartment.

He blinked and focused on Shilo again. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Go!"

Shilo gulped and took a deep breath. "Down the rabbit hole, Alice." She muttered and crawled into the hole.

Graverobber, with easy practice, swung himself into the hole feet first, and as gravity started pulling him into the hole, he hooked the crowbar into a convenient handle on the backside of the wall and pulled it shut behind him. He chuckled in delight at how pissed one Amber Sweet was going to be over this.

* * *

Gene Enforcers were forced to report to Amber that, once again, the criminal Graverobber had escaped their certain capture and disappeared without a clue. A new captain was selected once the old one was gutted by Luigi Largo.

"That fucker." Amber muttered in annoyance.

* * *

AN2: Okay, this was a little short. Sorry about that. Unfortunately, this was the only good break off point. I'll try to make the next chapter longer to make up for it. Reviews are always welcomed and enjoyed! Feel free to let me know what you liked, what you hated, and what was just strange.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: yadda-yadda-don't-own-yadda-yadda-please-don't-sue.

A/N: Oh-Em-Gee! This is my 10th chapter! What on earth should I do for this milestone in fanfiction-author-dom? Anybody have any ideas?

* * *

Going down the rabbit hole had been less than a magical experience for Shilo. She wondered if Alice had been disillusioned by her trip to Wonderland. Wonderland, for Shilo, currently involved a sewer pipe.

"Hm…" Graverobber's voice from behind her sounded oddly tinny in the pipe they were currently crawling through.

"What?" Shilo asked tightly. "So help me, Graverobber, if you tell me we're going in the wrong direction…" She stopped crawling forward, waiting for Graverobber to answer her.

His chuckle echoed eerily in the small space. "Considering this particular pipe has no junctions, I'd say that it'd take an extraordinary feat of skill and flexibility to get turned around in here, Sparrow."

His hand tapped the back of her calf, an unspoken indication to continue forward, but Shilo ignored the signal. Her hands and knees were aching from the long crawl they'd been doing, and she wanted a rest.

"Then what?" she asked.

"What, what?" Graverobber asked lazily. Shilo could practically hear the smirk in his voice; tinny echo or not.

"You 'hm'ed. What were you 'hm'ing about?"

"Ah. That." He said simply.

"Well?" she asked.

"I'm thinking." Graverobber replied ambiguously.

Shilo impatiently waited for him to say more. She shifted her weight, trying to relieve the ache in her knees. There wasn't much else to do in the pitch darkness of the pipe.

In the darkness, Graverobber's hand encircled Shilo's ankle. It rested there for a moment before lightly trailing up her let to her calf again. Then, slowly, his hand trailed up to the back of her knee. Shilo blushed and resisted the urge to shiver from the seemingly intimate touch.

In a single moment, the hand on her knee was suddenly on her ass, and she froze for a moment before a rough shove made her yelp and stumble forward.

"Keep moving, kid." Graverobber's voice was laced with amusement.

Something seemed to be caught in Shilo's throat and she had to clear her throat in order to speak. "What was that for?" She demanded in a high voice that had been tightened with nerves.

"I was verifying that you actually stole a pair of my pants."

Shilo spluttered for a moment. "Well…I mean…" Indignation managed to overpower her initial feeling of mortification and she was able to speak without stuttering. "You told me to find a pair of pants to wear!"

Graverobber chuckled and it echoed in the pipe. "Figured you'd grab your own pants back."

"The ones covered in _vomit_?" Shilo asked archly.

"Could have snuck into the apartment across from mine. The transvestite who lives there has a very nice selection of panties, I bet she wouldn't have minded getting you-" Graverobber informed her mischievously, with far too much delight in his voice.

"Okay!" Shilo interrupted. "I'm sorry I stole your pants. Can we drop the subject now?"

"Those were my favorite pair of pants, you know." He said, but the seriousness of his statement was undermined by the amusement that laced his voice.

"Oh yeah, well… you… assaulted my favorite lamp." Shilo's face burned at the lameness of her comeback as soon as she'd said it.

Graverobber was cracking up behind her. "Your lamp? Your favorite lamp?" he gasped out. "Well, I'm so sorry I assaulted your favorite lamp with my nakedness." And then he was gasping in laughter again.

Shilo contemplated thumping her head into the slime covered pipe before deciding that having green muck on her forehead really would kill the last bit of dignity she had left.

Instead, Shilo ignored his laughing ass and started crawling forward again. If she never saw another sewer pipe again, it'd be too soon.

She contemplated whether Graverobber really was a genius mastermind or if he was just insane. His escape tunnel turned out to be a modified access panel to the pipes and wires inside the wall. After going down three narrow and falling apart ladders to get between floors, they'd finally arrived safely on the ground floor. Shilo would have been happy to simply escape onto the streets from that point, but Graverobber had different ideas. He'd pulled aside a shower of bright and patched wires to reveal a sewer drain.

Which led Shilo to her current predicament; crawling around in a sewer pipe on hands and knees that were slowly freezing in the frigid water that was occasionally present in the pipe's bottom.

"How much farther do we have to crawl around in this sewer pipe?" Shilo asked over her shoulder.

"Till we hit a junction." Graverobber replied.

"And how far is that?" Shilo asked wearily.

"Well, let me consult my invisible sewer map with my invisible distance counter so I can see how far we've traveled."

Shilo gritted her teeth and resisted an urge to kick Graverobber in the teeth.

"You could have just said you didn't know." She muttered.

"Actually, when I'm woken up in the mornings by shit-heads breaking down my door, I have a physical imperative to use sarcasm for the rest of the day."

-CRUNCH-

Shilo's hand crunched through something gooey and a whiff of the most god awful smell hit her nose.

"Ugh!" Shilo recoiled and shook her hand.

"What is it?" Graverobber asked from behind her when she'd stopped again.

"I don't know!" Shilo frantically shook her hand, trying to get the last of the putrid mess off her hand.

Graverobber sighed from behind her and a moment later, a faint blue light was glowing over her shoulder.

"Tha-" Shilo started to thank Graverobber when she glanced down and saw what she'd put her hand through.

Shilo screamed and tried to scramble backwards, frantically rubbing her hand on the pipe's walls, trying to scrape off the rest of the dead man's face off her hand. Hysteria started to set in and Shilo felt the tell-tale tightening of her chest that indicated a panic attack was eminent, and then everything went blank.

"What the hell, Sparrow?" Graverobber asked. "Hey, stop that! There isn't enough room for you to try to- Oh." He saw what had started Shilo's screams. Considering Shilo's screams and flailing limbs, he decided that making a joke about not losing her head would be in bad taste.

Shilo's foot scraped down Graverobber's chest as she continued flailing and trying to back up. Her screams were starting to make his ears ring. He tried to wedge himself to the side so she could flail past him, but the pipe was too small. He shuffled backwards, Shilo plastered to him as she frantically took advantage of the ability to back away from the severed and now squished rotting head.

"Shilo, calm down!" Graverobber tried to yell over her screams. "Shilo!"

Shilo gave no indication of hearing him.

After the third time Graverobber had to avoid having his head kicked in by Shilo, he grabbed her legs and pulled her backwards, making her legs collapse and he surged forward and tackled her, pinning her body down with his heavier weight.

Shilo's screams had cut off with the air being knocked out of her lungs, and for a few blissful seconds, silence echoed in the pipe.

Then Shilo started struggling. She wiggled and gasped and seemed to still be trying to scramble backwards- or maybe trying to scrape her palms on the pipe's floor.

Graverobber cursed and grabbed Shilo's shoulders and wrenched her around until her back was to the floor and she was facing him.

The faint blue light from the discarded zydrate bottle only illuminated half of Shilo's face, but it was enough for Graverobber to see Shilo's wide blank eyes, the tears that streaked her cheeks and the gasping heaving sobs she was currently issuing from her silent mouth.

Graverobber recognized the signs of hysteria in Shilo and knew he needed to get her calmed down.

Graverobber's thumbs smoothed over Shilo's cheeks; her tears made him have heartburn, so he wanted to get rid of those first.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Graverobber commanded softly. "Look at me, Shilo." A tears fell from the corner of Shilo's eye and Graverobber continued talking. "It's all right. Everything's going to be fine, Shilo. I'm right here."

Shilo blinked and while she was still silently sobbing, something in her eyes seemed to be indicating that she was hearing him on some level, even if she wasn't fully aware yet.

"That's right." Graverobber soothed. "I'm right here. You're okay. You're going to be just fine."

Small cold hands latched onto the front of Graverobber's shirt and twisted it into a death grip.

"Good girl. You're gonna be okay. Just keep breathing." Graverobber continued talking, one of his hands was still stroking Shilo's face, the other was hesitantly smoothing over the hair at Shilo's temple. "I'm right here, just breathe with me."

Shilo gave another small sob, and her hands twisted deeper in Graverobber's shirt before they fell away. Her eyes were no longer blank.

Graverobber gave a small smirk. "There you are, Sparrow." His hands stopped stroking Shilo's face and hair and he focused on her eyes. "How're you doing?" he asked her softly.

"Th- there was…" Shilo's voice wobbled.

"Don't think about that." Graverobber cut her off.

"It- it was all over my- my hand…" Shilo said with hitching breaths. Another tear fell from the corner of her eye and Graverobber's fingertips caught it before it hit her hairline.

Shilo blinked at the unexpected gesture.

"Don't worry about that." Graverobber said with a hint of wryness on his voice. "You've effectively transferred whatever was on your hand onto my shirt."

For a moment, Shilo just goggled at Graverobber.

"How can you joke like that?" she asked in a pained voice.

Graverobber shrugged. "Everybody dies, everybody rots. Wouldn't be the first time I've gotten dead people all over my clothes."

"Can we go home now?" Shilo asked in a small voice.

"As soon as you're ready to start moving again." Graverobber promised.

"Do we have to go past the…" Shilo swallowed. "…the head?" she asked.

Graverobber just raised an eyebrow. "It's either that or you can go see if those GEnforcers can be swayed by your pretty doe eyes." Shilo's eyebrows raised in surprise at the compliment and Graverobber amended, "Who knows, they might find puffy bloodshot eyes attractive."

Shilo snorted and closed her eyes. "Nobody finds puffy eyes attractive." She informed him.

Graverobber chuckled and gently tapped her nose with his fingertip. "Now you're just fishing for a compliment." He told her. "But I will admit that the green algae on your forehead is particularly fetching."

Shilo, eyes still closed, frowned and swiped her forearm across her forehead.

"You missed." Graverobber sweetly informed her. "Now, what do you say you get up and we get the fuck out of this hellhole?"

"I don't want be in front anymore." Shilo told him.

"That's fine. I'll lead. We're almost to the junction anyways." And with that, Graverobber heaved himself up and carefully crawled over Shilo.

Shilo waited until Graverobber was past her before she rolled over and pulled herself up onto her hands and knees again and crawled after Graverobber.

For a moment, Shilo thought she wouldn't be able to crawl past the squished head, but when she came to the place where she'd found the head, it was carefully pushed to the side and what looked like a dingy handkerchief was draped over the remains. Shilo shuddered and still felt the phantom sensation of the face squishing underneath her hand. She knew that as soon as she got home, she was scrubbing her hand with bleach until the phantom sensation went away.

Graverobber was slightly further down the tunnel, but the faint blue light from the zydrate bottle Shilo carried in her hand was enough to faintly illuminate his face when he turned and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Oh, and Sparrow?" Graverobber said with a laugh. "Try not to stare at my ass."

* * *

AN: Okay! Here's the next chapter. Thanks to everyone for their patience. And a special thanks goes out to Pupten whose nice review gave me the jumpstart needed for me to finish off this chapter. This chapter was being incredibly difficult near the middle. I hope it doesn't show. : P

As always, reviews are the fuel I need to make more chapters, so if you like or dislike the chapters and/or the fic, feel free to drop me a line!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: …Do I really have to do one of these every chapter?

A/N: So I was writing a serious, in depth chapter focusing on how badly Shilo was dealing with the whole severed head thing… And it was so depressing I couldn't make myself write it anymore. So now, I present you with the stickiest fluff I could think of. Feel free to tell me if it's too over the top, but I regret nothing! Nothing I tell you!

* * *

Graverobber, was normally amused by life's random moments of schadenfreude…

"Hey, Sparrow! You'll never guess what I found in the dump today!" Graverobber said gleefully as he practically pranced through Shilo's kitchen, carefully cradling an object in his arms.

"In here!" Shilo called from the adjoining room.

"Where is 'here'?" Graverobber called out into the echo-y house in general.

"Parlor!"

Graverobber scoffed and rolled his eyes. Like he knew what room would be the 'parlor' and where it was located… He grumbled good-naturedly and started walking through the house, his prize cradled in the box in his arms. He grinned at the thought of the reaction that his dumpster diving find was going to elicit from his Sparrow.

Not in the kitchen… Nor the dining room- ha! He knew what the dining room was; it had the table in it! And she definitely wasn't in the big hall thingy that the staircase started at...

"Marco!" he called out.

"What?" Sparrow's shouted back in a confused voice.

Aha!

Graverobber grinned at his own cleverness. Forward! He strode forward, through the big hall thingy to the doorway on the other side. Graverobber cocked his head as he considered the fact that he'd never been in this part of the house before. He poked his head around the partially open door.

Meh. Library. No wonder he'd never been in this part of the house… Row after row of dusty, old, falling apart books. Graverobber doubted there was a single piece of porn in the entire room. Speaking of porn… he should really check under Sparrow's bed and see what he could use to blackmail her into making pancakes… Mmmm pancakes…

Graverobber's stomach grumbled and he glared past the box in his hands at his stomach. Food later! Surprise now!

After what seemed forever to an impatient Graverobber (but really, it was only a minute or two) he found a second door.

The door, like the others he'd been following, was partially open, and from the other side he finally heard noises of inhabitation. Including what sounded like humming.

Huh… he'd forgotten his sparrow could carry a note. He grinned at the memory of Sparrow drunk and singing on a table top. Admittedly, that night had been far more trouble than the memory was worth, but still… she'd been pretty eye-catching while she'd sung on top of that table… And as for the trouble after that- well, a couple of weeks helped to dim the memory of Sparrow's projectile vomiting skills.

Graverobber carefully shifted the box in his hands to have a better grip on it and grinned in anticipation. He burst through the door-

"Sur-!"

"Gah!"

"Ow!"

"No!"

"ARGH!"

-And crashed into the ladder that was just inside the doorway.

Graverobber rapped his head on the ladder's locking bar and the ladder tipped forward for a moment before snapping shut, Shilo fell off the ladder and crashed into a stunned Graverobber and the bucket of paste that'd been on the ladder splashed all over both of them. Strips of wallpaper fluttered to the floor around them and on them.

"Ow…" Shilo weakly moaned. She rubbed the side of her head with the back of one hand and tried to sit up. The sticky mess all over herself and Graverobber.

There seemed to be a jolt of heat from wherever Graverobber and Shilo were touching in their sprawl of limbs. But Graverobber ignored whatever heat he felt because Shilo was his sparrow and that was very inappropriate because she was like, thirteen or something. So he told his libido to cool it and besides, he _hurt_.

"Get…off…" Graverobber wheezed. He grabbed her waist and tried to roll Sparrow off of him. Oh god… his head… And what the hell was all over him? He felt like something sneezed all over him…

Shilo grunted when she felt herself shifting as Graverobber pushed at her. She planted a hand on the floor and tried to sit up.

Graverobber tried to rub his forehead with his hand.

Shilo's hand on the floor was suddenly jerked out from under her and she fell on top of Graverobber again. Their heads knocked together with a painful rap.

"Ow!" Shilo cried out. "What did you do that for?" she asked in a pained voice.

"Hells, Sparrow. You're too goddamned heavy… Get off!" Graverobber growled. Shilo tried to move her legs so she could sit up and felt an odd pulling in her pant legs.

Shilo's eyes widened in realization.

"Wait, Graverobber-" Shilo started to talk, but Graverobber tried to shove her off of him again- his hand still on her waist.

"Graverobb-" Shilo tried again as she tried to keep her balance. Shilo flung one hand out, trying to keep from falling. Graverobber growled as Shilo grabbed his sleeve and yanked his arm over.

"Shilo- so help me God…" Graverobber growled angrily. He was tired of Shilo bouncing around on his bruised ribs and his head hurt and she was flinging his limbs around like a quadriplegic… He gave up trying to be vaguely nice about getting Shilo off of himself and simply rolled the two of them.

Shilo yelped as she was tipped on her side and rolled over.

Suddenly, Graverobber was on top, looking down at a surprised Shilo.

"Gah!" Shilo yelped, her eyes wide. Words had escaped her.

Graverobber tried to stand up, but found Shilo's legs still wrapped around his thighs. One of her hands still clutched his shoulder. Her chest seemed to be plastered to his chest. Graverobber blinked, his brain momentarily short circuited.

"Look, Sparrow, I know I'm sexy as hell, but you're a little young for me, AND you bashed me in the head. I'm not interested right now." He tried to sit up and found he couldn't.

"Gah! No! I- Uh, I mean! Gah!" Shilo babbled.

He tried to pull his hand off of Shilo's waist so he could push her off of him and found his hand tightly stuck to her shirt. He gave a couple of experimental tugs. He glanced to the side and saw that Shilo's forearm seemed to be propped on his bicep. That was an odd position for her arm… Various strips of paper seemed to be stuck to their clothing… And finally, he noticed that their hair seemed to be entangled. No… wait… it was more like it was… stuck… together…

Graverobber paused for a moment. "…Alright, I'll bite. Why are we stuck together?" he finally asked.

Shilo was wide eyed and mute.

Graverobber sighed and shut his eyes for a moment. This was going to take drastic action. He couldn't deal with being glued to Shilo while she was having one of her fugues of embarrassment. He opened his eyes and eyed the practically comatose Shilo before he dug his fingers against Shilo's side.

She squealed and flailed like someone electrocuted her. Which made Graverobber lose what little balance he'd had and he fell on top of her.

The air rushed out of Shilo and she wheezed. A little vindictive voice in the back of Graverobber's voice was gleeful that Shilo got to see exactly what it felt like when someone squished you with their weight and he was disappointed he didn't have a chance to fall from four feet up on top of her after she'd gotten bashed in the head.

"Don't fade out again, Sparrow." Graverobber ordered Shilo from somewhere around her neck. He pulled his head up so he could look her in the eyes and not focus about how her neck smelled very nice.

It was a good thing that whatever glue had stuck them together had dried quickly, or Shilo may have died from embarrassment from Graverobber gluing himself to her neck. …Graverobber also would have been upset with the situation.

"You _tickled_ me!" Shilo accused Graverobber.

"You GLUED us together." Graverobber retorted.

"I did not!" Shilo snapped at him, momentarily forgetting to be embarrassed as she remembered that she was MAD about this situation. "What kind of person just runs through a closed door without knocking first- or at least announcing their presence?" she demanded.

Graverobber glared at her. "I wasn't running. I was surprising you-" he started.

Shilo snorted. "Good surprise." She said sarcastically, not noticing that Graverobber had stopped speaking and was wildly looking around.

"Where's the box?" Graverobber asked in a voice that had a touch of unease- not anxiety! He was not anxious!- in it.

"What box?" Shilo asked.

"The box I was carrying when you hit me with a ladder." Graverobber said distractedly as he craned his head around.

"I didn't see a box. I didn't even see you until you knocked me off the ladder." Shilo said pointedly.

Graverobber craned his head over his left shoulder until he felt a pinching feeling in his neck and finally spotted a corner of the box peeking out from behind the partially closed door behind him. He couldn't tell if it was upright or not.

Graverobber grunted and managed to haul himself into a position where most of his weight was off of Shilo. "Fun's over. We need to get unglued." He told her. He looked at her expectantly.

"…What?" she finally asked a little uneasily.

Graverobber sighed. "How do we get unglued?" He asked her in the kind of tone you use when speaking to a particularly young child.

Shilo's eyes glanced at anywhere but Graverobber's face. "Uhh…"

Graverobber resisted the urge thump his forehead against the floor. "You don't know." He stated.

"I wasn't planning on getting glued to someone!" Shilo said in a panicked not-my-fault voice. Graverobber noticed that Shilo's breath started speeding up again.

Graverobber closed his eyes again and tried to fight off the headache that threatened to become a migraine. "Okay. Let's just take this one step at a time." He said in his best calm voice.

"First off, Sparrow. Stop panicking. We can't get out of this if you have an aneurysm." He ordered.

Shilo's eyes were wide.

"I mean it." Graverobber said in a firm voice. "Trust me when I say that this isn't the worst compromising position you're ever going to be in your life. So it's not a big deal. So. Stop. Panicking."

Shilo's eyes- if possible- were wider and indicated that she didn't believe him.

"Seriously, you're like, seventeen, right? Didn't daddy dearest ever catch you with a boy or something?" Graverobber asked.

Shilo's jaw dropped and a blush crept over her cheeks. She hesitantly shook her head no.

Graverobber blinked. There was no way she was THIS sheltered. NOBODY was this sheltered. "…Girlfriend?" he asked weakly.

Shilo glared at him for a moment but the flaming blush that had crept down her neck and across the tips of her ears didn't stop the surprised, "No!" from coming out of her mouth.

Hoo-Boy… he may need to rethink this whole Sparrow's-got-porn-under-her-bed-theory. …Wait-a-minute…Sparrow… Sparrow might be a virgin?

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Graverobber's brain short-circuited.

Something odd must have shown in Graverobber's face because Shilo gave him a concerned look and asked if he was okay.

Oh hell no. He most certainly was NOT okay. Not okay AT ALL. But instead of saying anything, Graverobber returned to his most practical stand-by. Graverobber thumped his head to the floor just over Shilo's shoulder. She stiffened, but Graverobber didn't care. Bad thoughts were in his head and they needed to get out NOW.

After a couple of thumps, Graverobber left his head against the floor and spoke at Shilo's shoulder. "Okay. This might be more compromising than you've ever been in before, but trust me when I say that you will most definitely experience other humiliating experiences with worse compromising positions."

There was a silence for a moment. "Was... that supposed to make me feel better?" Shilo asked in a pained voice.

Graverobber thumped his head on the floor a couple more times instead of answering her.

"Uhhh… there, there?" Shilo asked in a small confused voice. Graverobber felt her hand give his shoulder a small squeeze. "I feel much better now?" she said in a question.

Graverobber just stayed silent.

"…Graverobber? I feel better now. What's the next step?" Shilo asked.

Step? Steps. Right. First Shilo needed a nunnery… "…What are we glued with." Graverobber asked in a pained voice while still talking to Shilo's shoulder.

"It's wallpaper paste." Shilo said hesitantly.

"How's it work."

"…this is really awkward with you in my shoulder." Shilo stated.

"Tough." Graverobber said flatly. He was never looking his sparrow in the eyes again. "Explain how it works."

"It's a water based paste that needs heat and moisture to activate the modified double polymer cyanoacrylate-methylcellulose bond that creates a fast acting adhesive that's doesn't absorb into the paper but dries out and bonds causing a glaze-" Shilo started to explain, but Graverobber was lost after 'water based paste' and 'fast acting adhesive'.

"Okay, that's enough," Graverobber interrupted her. "I want to know how you get it off."

"…It's wallpaper paste." Shilo said in a small voice. "It's not supposed to come off."

Graverobber scoffed. "Everything has a way to come off, Sparrow." He thought for a moment before he asked, "Okay, let's say you want to change the wallpaper, how do you get the wallpaper off?"

"…you cover it up with a new layer of wallpaper." Shilo said in a are-you-stupid tone of voice.

Graverobber growled. "Sparrow…"

"I'm sorry! I told you, I wasn't planning on getting covered in this stuff! I don't know how to get it off!"

Graverobber sighed. "Is it waterproof when it dries?" he asked, not having any hope that it was.

"I…don't know." Shilo said surprised.

Graverobber lifted his head off of Shilo's shoulder in amazement. "…How do you not know if it's waterproof?" he asked incredulously. "You can rattle off words like Cyrano-pencials-"

"Cyanoacrylate?" Shilo asked.

"-But you don't know if this stuff is WATER PROOF?" he finished.

Shilo hesitantly shrugged. "It's WALLPAPER PASTE." She said again. "Wallpaper is delicate. It's not like you can wash the walls with water- it completely melts the paper. There's this special putty you use to dab at the paper to clean it-"

"Water melts the paper." Graverobber stated with a bland face.

"It's paper!" Shilo defended.

"And when you have to put new wallpaper up, do you just throw more glue on and throw the paper up?" Graverobber asked, still with a bland voice.

Shilo shook her head. "That would make the walls all lumpy looking. You have to steam clean the walls to take off any remnants on the walls and make sure there's nothing to cause the new wallpaper to become… lumpy…" Shilo trailed off.

"Steam clean." Graverobber stated. A grin started to creep across his face.

"…Yeah…?" Shilo looked confused for a moment before realization dawned and she sighed. "I'm an idiot." Shilo stated.

Graverobber chuckled. "You still getting hot water in this place, Sparrow?"

* * *

A/N#2: 'Insert heartfelt plea for reviews here.' Naaaah, I'm just joshing ya. While reviews are nice and always help inspire me to write more chapters, this chapter was entirely for my own selfish enjoyment and I'm just happy enough to share it. Feel free to review and let me know what you think of the chapter. Next chapter should be out soonish. Thanks for reading! I'm still completely blown away that people keep telling me that this is a good piece of writing, lol.

PS- would anybody hate it if I added a third POV to the story? Miss Amber Sweet is gnashing her teeth in my head and won't stop whining about having a bit of the limelight.


	12. Chapter 12 & 13

Disclaimer: Okay, you caught me. I own Repo. I also own the moon, Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, and the world's largest supply of doomsday devices. …okay, so I don't really own those things, especially Repo, but if I did own any of those things, I'm sure as hell not gonna tell anyone! PS- I don't own the below mentioned show, Supernatural, either. Cue pouting here.

A/N: Today's chapter is entirely due to Yukimura Hina who made me laugh until I cried by using my secret vice (Supernatural) to ask a-la Dean Winchester "WHAT'S IN THE BOOOOOOX?" Hee. Just remembering it still makes me smile and giggle.

Addendum: Okay, I started writing this chapter, planning on answering the question on everyone's mind… and then my fingers had a different idea. Lol. So this chapter is extra long because Graverobber and Shilo don't know how to answer a simple freaking question and I can't stick to a script to save my life.

* * *

Shilo couldn't decide if she was absolutely mortified with this situation or annoyed with Graverobber.

"Oh-god-you're-so-heavy." Graverobber whined as he grunted and panted, awkwardly staggering down the narrow hallway with Shilo wrapped around his waist. They'd just finished getting up the stairs and were finally- finally!- on the second floor.

Yeah, at the moment, she was definitely feeling more annoyed than embarrassed. At every stair, Graverobber had to make a comment about her weight, or how this was her fault or why couldn't she put some effort into helping, and why wasn't there an elevator in her stupid house. "I hate you." Shilo stated in a flat voice.

Graverobber snorted and then yelped as he missed a step and sent them both crashing into a wall.

Shilo whimpered in pain as her head knocked into the wall and Graverobber's weight knocked the breath out of her body again.

"Remind me to never tell you to eat more, okay?" Graverobber panted as he took a moment to rest before heaving them off the wall and staggering down the hall again. "Where's the shower again?" he grumbled.

"Connected to the bedrooms." Shilo said wearily. Like she hadn't told him five times already.

"Right." Graverobber grunted. He panted and carefully leaned them up against the wall next to one of the bedroom doors so his right hand could grab the doorknob and open the door. "Your house is stupid, Sparrow. What kind of an idiot builds a house with no showers on the first floor?" he asked.

Shilo sighed, knowing the question was redundant. Graverobber didn't care a whit that the house was a reproduction of an early 19th century Colonial. She'd always enjoyed the little bit of history that her and her father had lived in, but right now… right now she was in agreement with Graverobber.

They staggered through the bedroom and finally got to the bathroom.

"Okay," Graverobber panted as they rested against the wall next to the light switch. "How're we gonna do this?" he asked Shilo. "Cuz I'm about done here and I don't think I can hold both of us up while the glue dissolves unless you think it's only gonna take a minute."

Shilo hesitated. "I don't know how long it'll take the glue to dissolve." She admitted.

Graverobber eyed the giant claw-footed tub. "Think we would both fit in the tub?" he asked.

Shilo craned her neck around to look at the tub too. "Um…I think so." Shilo agreed, "We could fill it with hot water and sit in it until my legs get unstuck, then we can both stand and use the shower for the remaining glued spots." She offered. She deliberately avoided thinking about hot showers and wet clothes and… She bit her cheek sharply and used the sharp pain and tang of blood to erase any hint of bad thoughts from her imagination.

Graverobber nodded. "Sounds good." He agreed. He took a couple of deep breaths and heaved them off the wall again and staggered to the bath.

Shilo's fingers tightened on his shoulder as he started to tilt forward, making her tilt backwards. His free hand was suddenly on her lower back, supporting her. Shilo was grateful for the contact, even while she knew that they were glued together, she didn't enjoy the feeling of tilting backwards or the thoughts of Graverobber slipping and bashing her against the floor- again.

However, this time, nothing happened, and a moment later, he was sitting on the edge of the tub with Shilo carefully supported in his arms while he made sure they weren't going to fall over. "Okay there?" He asked her absently while he caught his breath.

Shilo nodded, intensely aware of the heat from his hand through her shirt. Her eyes looked everywhere but at Graverobber, not wanting to give him even a hint of her thoughts. She felt it when his hand left her back and for a moment, she missed the warmth. Then she watched as his hand started twisting the knobs and with a rumble of pipes water started to run out of the faucet.

"The plug is hanging off the faucet." Shilo pointed out to him.

Graverobber nodded while his hand checked the temperature of the water. "How hot do you think it should be?" He asked.

Shilo almost shrugged before remembering that his head was practically level with her chest. "I- ah- I don't know." She stuttered. Graverobber glanced at her when she stuttered, an eyebrow raised in question.

'_Please-don't-ask-Please-don't-ask-Please-don't-ask_…' she mentally begged, not wanting to try to explain that she did/didn't want Graverobber staring at her chest.

"Alright then. How hot can you stand it?" he asked after a moment.

Shilo's mind happily provided flashbacks of her desperately scrubbing the blood off herself after the massacre at the opera and the obsessive scrubbing of her hand after the sewer incident. She mentally winced as she remembered the time she'd been planning on pouring boiling water over her hand, desperate to try and get it _clean_ enough. Her bandaged hand- the one that trailed behind Graverobber's head- tingled and reminded her that she still couldn't get that phantom sensation of _goo_ off her hand. But as she'd been removing the tea-kettle off the stove, Graverobber had stopped by and distracted her by demanding food.

"Very hot." Shilo mumbled.

Another one of those disconcerting glances from Graverobber; the one that made it seem like he could see into her head and knew exactly what she was thinking about. But he didn't say anything and didn't ask any questions, just went back to fiddling with the faucets and Shilo was intensely grateful.

Neither of them spoke after that. There was a moment of precarious wobbling when Graverobber tried to get the plug into the drain, but they'd managed to right themselves at the last moment. Then the silence was filled with the roar of the faucet and the splashing of the water as the tub filled.

After a minute, Shilo risked a glance at Graverobber and was surprised to notice a look of seriousness on his face with his eyebrows pinched together and his mouth tight and in a little frown. His fingers were absently tapping out an indistinguishable rhythm on the porcelain of the tub. Shilo wondered if he was deeply thinking about something, but noticed his stare was fixed on something… Shilo tensed as she realized that he was looking at the items on the edge of the sink next to them.

"Shilo…" Graverobber said in a low voice. Shilo ripped her eyes from Graverobber serious gaze.

"I think the water is almost high enough, Graverobber." Shilo said quickly, desperate to divert his attention.

"Why's there a bottle of bleach and a scrub brush on the back of your sink?" Graverobber asked in a too-calm voice.

Shilo nervously scoffed. "What? I was cleaning the bathroom, obviously. Not everyone likes living in a slovenly mess. I just forgot to put-"

"And I suppose that's just rust on the bristles?" Graverobber asked flatly.

"The water's high enough, Graverobber. We should get in and turn the water off before it gets too high-" Shilo babbled, her voice was getting higher and higher as her throat nervously got tighter and tighter.

Warm fingers that were surprisingly gentle grasped Shilo's chin. He tugged her chin down until his face was a scant couple of inches from her own and she couldn't help but meet his eyes. Still had flecks of green and gold in them, she noticed.

"You better pay attention to the words coming out of my mouth, Shilo." Graverobber said in a voice that was serious and brooked no argument. Shilo didn't even know that he KNEW how to be serious. But that wasn't true, she realized. There was that time when she'd had that panic attack and then again in the sewer…

And without knowing it, sweat sprang on her forehead and her body started trembling.

"Listen to me Shilo." Graverobber said again, and gave a little shake to emphasize his words. "If you don't stop this _idiocy_ with your hand, I will personally tie you up and use immersion therapy to make you get over this hang up over that head. You think a decaying head squishing in your hand was bad? I'll show you rotting things you didn't even know existed. And then I'll make you touch them. Over and over and over again. You understand?" Graverobber growled.

Wide eyed Shilo trembled in his arms and minutely nodded.

Graverobber glared into her eyes, making sure she saw exactly how serious he was about this. And then he let go of her chin and deliberately turned his head to the side and turned off the faucet.

Through an incredible feat of luck, balance, and flexibility, Graverobber managed to get the two of them lowered in the tub without breaking anything.

Shilo wondered if Graverobber felt as awkward as she did about being in the hot steaming water with their clothes on. Their clothes happily sucked up the water and even though the water was only to their waists, the water steadily climbed up their shirts. The water was just short of being too hot and their wet shirts above the water simply got cold and clammy.

"Well?" Graverobber asked after they sat in awkward silence in the water for a minute. "Anything loosening?" He asked.

Shilo experimentally flexed her legs and tried to pull herself off of him. The tackiness of their clothes remained, but as she twisted, she thought she could detect more movement from their stiff clothes. "I think so…" She mumbled, concentrating on getting their clothes and skin to come undone. She swiveled her hips again and flexed her legs, trying to get things to loosen even more.

"Sparrow…" Graverobber spoke, but Shilo wasn't paying attention. She was sure if she just kept moving she could get them free…

"Sparrow!" Graverobber said even louder. Graverobber's hand on her waist suddenly dug into her side and she yelped and jerked, trying to get away from the hand.

"Don't DO that!" Shilo yelped at Graverobber, glaring at him. She hated being tickled, but that was less tickling and more like squeezing and it hurt!

"That's what I was trying to say!" Graverobber gritted out. "Don't DO that!" he repeated.

Shilo looked at him in confusion. "Don't do what?" she asked.

Shilo swore she actually saw one of his eyes twitch. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to decide against it. He sighed. "Just… Don't move. Okay?" he asked tiredly. "Let me get my hand free and then I'll work on getting your legs unstuck."

His hand flexed against her waist, pulling her shirt as he pulled it back and then flattening against her waist again. Even with the heat from the water, Shilo could swear she could feel the heat of his hand against her skin. Shilo grimaced. This was all sorts of awkward. She hoped the blush on her cheeks was obscured by the steam from the water.

Shilo suddenly sat up straight, the light blush on her cheeks darkening to completely cover her face. "Gah! Oh my god, I'm SO sorry, Graverobber!" Shilo said with embarrassment, realizing why Graverobber would want her to stop moving.

Graverobber didn't stop concentrating on getting his hand free from her waist and didn't look at her face. "It's fine." He mumbled, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

A moment later, he grinned and with a "Ta-dah!" pulled his hand free from the side of her blouse. He waved it and flexed the fingers, as if checking to make sure they worked right.

Shilo grinned in relief. The water idea was working!

"Now just give me a minute and I'll get your legs free, Sparrow." He said perkily.

His hands started running over her pant-clad legs and his focused on getting his fingers between where they were connected by their clothes.

Shilo was desperate to distract herself from the fact that Graverobber was running his hands over her legs. As his hands skimmed over her thighs Shilo franticly blurted out the first thing that popped in her head.

"What was in the box?" she said in a high voice.

Graverobber paused, his hands on her knees. Shilo gulped. "The, uh, the box, the one we left in the parlor." She babbled. "What was in it?"

Shilo's eyes must have conveyed her desperation because Graverobber grinned and started talking while his hands continued working at their clothes.

"Oh yeah. That."

Shilo nodded in exaggeration. "Yes. That."

Graverobber mock pouted. "That would spoil the surprise." He stated. Shilo caught the teasing note in his voice and she had to keep herself from smiling at his over-the-top-silliness.

"Don't like surprises." She told him.

"You're a horrible liar, Sparrow." Graverobber said with amusement. "Everyone likes surprises."

"What- uh- what if I don't like the surprise?" Shilo asked with a small frown. Oh god, what if it was something gross and disturbing…

"You'll love it." Graverobber stated with absolute conviction. "I expect pancakes as a reward for this whole mess." He added on in a thoughtful voice. "I missed breakfast because of my discovery." He grinned.

"A-ha!" Graverobber crowed in victory as one of Shilo's legs loosened and sagged against the side of the tub. "Lots of pancakes." Graverobber added.

"Oh my god, that's so much better." Shilo said in relief as her leg relaxed.

"One sec and I'll have your other leg free." Graverobber said happily.

"For this, you can have all the pancakes you want." Shilo promised Graverobber. Graverobber grinned.

She twitched as Graverobber's hand skimmed along the underside of her knee. It tickled.

"Do you want the flapjacks or the blintzes?" Shilo asked, still needing distraction from the sensory overload of Graverobber touching her legs.

"Which were which?" he asked.

"The uh, flapjacks were the big fluffy pancakes that were really dense. The blintzes were the tiny thin crispy ones with cheese filling in the middle of them."

"After all this work, I think I need both." Graverobber said with a grin. And then Shilo's other leg came free.

"Yay!" Shilo cheered. She awkwardly hugged Graverobber, happy to have the use of her legs again. "Thank you! You can definitely have both. I'll make so much, you'll be sick of them." She promised.

Graverobber laughed. "You, madam," he said in a mock serious voice, "Have no idea how much I can eat. And I assure you, you will concede defeat before my stomach is full."

Shilo grinned at Graverobber, not remembering the last time she'd been this happy, and for the first time in a long time, she laughed.

* * *

Once they could both stand, it was easy enough to drain the tub and turn the shower on instead. By mutual agreement, they decided that Graverobber should get Shilo's hands free, then she'd work on getting their chests apart since her groping Graverobber's chest was less embarrassing than Graverobber groping HER chest.

Just as Shilo was preparing to work on getting the fronts of their shirts unglued, Graverobber's hand grasped Shilo's bandaged hand and carefully unpeeled the soaked bandages.

Shilo gulped and determinedly turned her head away as Graverobber unveiled the scratched and chemically burned hand.

He sighed. "Oh Sparrow…" He muttered unhappily. Shilo barely heard it over the roar of the shower.

He turned her hand over and examined the palm of her hand as well. Shilo tried to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he held on.

"It's… it's not that bad…" Shilo said hesitantly. "I mean… it's healing well and it doesn't really hurt anymore now that the epidermis is starting to form the top layers of skin again…" she trailed off and took a couple of deep breaths. She wanted to explain. She wanted to make Graverobber understand. "I… I didn't mean to, really. It was just… I'd had a nightmare and I was throwing up and I could still _feel_ it in my hand… and it wouldn't get clean…" Shilo muttered.

She shook her head and pushed her wet hair out of her face with her free hand.

Graverobber's fingers were on her chin again and without his prompting, she looked up at him. He tapped her nose with his fingertip. "Never again." He said firmly.

Shilo looked away and nodded unhappily. Then Graverobber let go of her hand and she started working on freeing their shirts from each other.

* * *

Shilo sat on the couch in the sitting room, happily toweling her non-glued hair. She would never again take being a single separate being for granted again. Ever.

As soon as Shilo and Graverobber had been able to get completely unstuck, they'd finished their showers separately. Graverobber had pounded on her door as she'd been getting dressed and she'd been very glad she'd remembered to lock her door when he'd jiggled the knob.

"Are you dressed yet?" He yelled through the door.

"Almost! Give me a couple of minutes!" she'd yelled back.

"Meet you downstairs, and whatever you do, DON'T go into the parlor, on pain of death!" he'd commanded.

"Okay?" Shilo had replied in confusion.

"Promise!" He'd commanded.

Shilo rolled her eyes. "I promise!" she agreed. "Now let me get dressed!"

Now she was downstairs in the sitting room, waiting for Graverobber.

Graverobber's head appeared in the doorway- sideways. "When's your birthday?" He asked.

"January Fifteenth." Shilo replied automatically.

"Oh." Graverobber said. "So… 'nother nine months, huh?"

Shilo stopped toweling her hair. "Yeah…" she said slowly, "Why?" she asked suspiciously, but Graverobber's head had already disappeared from view. "…Graverobber?" she called out in confusion.

A moment later, Graverobber's head appeared in the doorway again. He scanned the room before he stared at Shilo. His arm extended through the doorway and he pointed at her. "Stay there!" he instructed her and as soon as she'd hesitantly nodded, he disappeared again.

Shilo sighed. She was starting to get tired of all of Graverobber's orders.

There was the sound of rapid footsteps and then he leapt through the doorway, surprising Shilo. Then he was standing in front of her.

"Surprise!" he crowed in delight, thrusting a stained cardboard box towards her. "I've decided it's a We're-Not-Glued-Together-Anymore present!"

Shilo's hands grasped the box and she set the surprisingly heavy box in her lap. There was a damp towel draped over the top, covering whatever was inside. The box shifted and Shilo snatched her hands away from the side of the box in alarm, leaving the box perched on her knees as she looked at Graverobber with narrowed eyes.

"What's in there?" she asked suspiciously. There was a small scratching noise and the slight rustle of paper from the box.

Graverobber grinned and rocked back on his heels before leaning forward and rocking on his toes. He was twirling a coin between his fingertips. "Nuh-uh!" he said, "You gotta look!" he said with a mischievous smile.

She frowned and hesitantly set her fingertips on the side of the box, as if trying to divine what's inside it.

Graverobber stopped rocking and pouted at Shilo, his fingertips still twirling the coin. "C'mon, Sparrow, would I let something hurt you?" he asked.

Shilo sighed, and with apprehension, pulled the towel off the box.

It was… fuzzy. It turned its brown and black muzzle up towards her and it's little mouth opened to reveal a shockingly pink interior and a little purple tongue as it yawned. Then it gave a little whimper and blinked its shockingly blue eyes.

Shilo gaped at Graverobber. "Is… is that a puppy?" she asked in complete astonishment.

Graverobber shrugged, even while his grin was threatening to split his face. "It might be a really bloated rat, but I'm pretty sure it's a puppy."

Shilo hesitantly extended a fingertip out to the puppy, holding it just in front of its nose. It sniffed her fingertip before hesitantly mouthing it. Shilo pulled away her fingertip immediately.

Graverobber cocked his head to the side, confusion evident on his face. "…Don't you like it?" he asked.

Shilo continued staring at the puppy. "I…" she started.

"_Please daddy?" Shilo asked. She was only seven or eight years old. "It crashed into the window. Can I keep it?" She held up the dazed pigeon in her hands. "I promise I'll take care of it, and feed it and everything!"_

_Her father's large hands enveloped her own and gently took the bird away from her. "Oh, Shilo… We've been over this before. You can't have any pets. Besides, don't you know what diseases a wild bird can carry?" Little Shilo shook her head._

"_Can't you fix it?" Shilo asked her father. "Make it better and then I can keep it?" she asked hopefully._

_Nathan shook his head. "No, Shilo, your illness is… very difficult to manage. You could die if I let you keep the bird."_

_Shilo felt her lip wobble. She knew what 'die' meant. That was when someone left and never came back. And it hurt. A lot._

"_Could… could we fix it and let it go?" Shilo asked dejectedly._

"_Look Shilo, do you see its wing? It's not supposed to bend like that." Nathan tried to gently explain._

"_But… but you're a'supposed to fix things when they're broken!" Shilo started crying. "That's what a Doctor does, isn't it? You fix people and make them better!"_

"_Sometimes I can't fix things, Shilo. That's why we have to be so careful with you. I can't fix your illness, I can only try to keep it under control. That's why you can't have a pet." Nathan began to repeat the lecture he'd been giving Shilo repeatedly for over a year- since she'd seen the woman walking a dog down the street._

"_Animals with skin and fur produce dander, and that can and will exacerbate your breathing problems. Avian and reptilian animals have infectious diseases. Aquatic specimens can encourage the growth of molds and bacteria." He hoped the familiar argument would make Shilo forget about the bird he'd set down on his desk._

_Shilo was crying. "Please, Daddy! Please!" she begged. "I just wa- want a f-fr-friend!" she wailed._

_Nathan shook his head firmly. "I'm afraid that's impossible, Shilo. Now you need to calm down. Hysterics can affect your condition."_

"_No!" Shilo yelled. "No! No! No! No!" she stomped her foot and considered throwing herself on the ground in her temper tantrum._

_Nathan stood up from the desk, and calmly slapped Shilo across the cheek. She stopped in shock, gingerly touching her burning cheek._

"_Go to bed, Shilo. We'll talk more in the morning." Nathan calmly turned his back on Shilo, staring out the window behind his desk._

_Shilo sniffled, cupping her cheek and slunk out the door in dejection. She stopped in the hallway, feeling guilty for the temper tantrum she'd tried to throw. The idea that her father was angry with her made her feel nauseous. She knew her daddy loved her. He was just trying to keep her safe._

_She turned around to tell him she was sorry and hug him goodnight. As she got to the entryway of her father's study, she heard a soft coo from the injured pigeon she'd found. She'd forgotten about the pigeon, she realized. Shilo peeked her head around the doorway to see her father cradling the pigeon in one hand. His other hand was stroking the pigeon's head. It gave another coo, as though it enjoyed the soft strokes on its head._

_And then her father grasped the pigeon's body with one hand and its head with another and twisted. The bird's neck made a hollow pop as it was cleanly broken… and it cooed no more._

"Shilo?" Graverobber asked, the laughter was out of his voice and now he just sounded… concerned.

Shilo looked up from the puppy in the box and absently wiped the tears out of her eyes. She gave him a watery smile. "I love him." She said quietly.

Without hesitation, she picked the picked up the dirty puppy that vaguely smelled like curdled milk and buried her face in his soft fur for a moment before she cradled him to her chest.

This time when she smiled at Graverobber it was bright and cheery despite the lingering tears in her eyes. "What should we call him?" Shilo asked.

* * *

A/N2: Whew! Two *FULL* chapters at once! That was exhausting! The scene with Nathan Wallace was completely spur-of-the-moment but I think it was my favorite part to write in this chapter. I hope it turned out all right. If you liked the chapter, disliked the chapter, was confused by something, or have a question, feel free to leave me a review- they're like crack for authors. Seriously.

Lastly- I have no idea what I'm going to name the puppy. Anybody have any ideas?

PPS (or is that PPPS?): Amber's big debut is coming soon, I promise, I just have to find just the right place to put it now. : )


	13. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own repo. -insert sigh here-

* * *

Graverobber walked through the graveyard with a spring in his step, despite his fatigue. He was eager to visit his Sparrow and to see if he could wheedle some medical treatment and a hot meal out of her. His black eye throbbed in a neat counterpoint to his stinging knuckles, but neither was distracting enough to stop him from daydreaming about something hot to eat and a good shower.

The vision of a soaked Shilo flashed through his mind. Her hair had been plastered to her head, and her big brown eyes had been wide as she'd stared up at him, her wet shirt had been clinging to all the right cur-

Graverobber tripped over a crumbling gravestone. He cursed even as he stumbled. He briefly rubbed his aching shin, thinking it was justified karma that had caused the injury. He had no right to be thinking less than pure thoughts about the little sparrow he'd taken under his wing. She didn't deserve that.

He wasn't an idiot. He'd heard the rumors that flitted around after the infamous opera scandal. But the signs he'd seen simply from being around Shilo had been the most damning evidence. And there were things that even he, The Graverobber, couldn't ignore.

One thing was for certain; Sparrow's father had done a royal mind fuck on her, even before the opera mess.

If the rumors that Graverobber had heard were even remotely true, Nathan Wallace had been keeping his sick daughter a secret from the entire world for years. A sick daughter that hadn't really been sick.

While Graverobber was a lot of things, he was neither oblivious nor stupid. Shilo never talked about her father. Ever. And after certain oddities had come up about her past- never attended school, didn't know where the local grocers was, never had a drink, a boyfriend, a fucking PET… Graverobber had done some digging of his own and had found enough evidence to support such rumors.

Shilo Wallace, daughter of the late Nathan Wallace and Marni Wallace, didn't exist. As least, as far as public records were concerned. The house Shilo currently lived in had been willed to a distant relative of Nathan's- a Marjorie Williams, to be precise. …And what a coincidence, she also didn't exist according to public records.

Graverobber didn't believe in coincidences. So after paying an exorbitant amount of money to an information digger, Graverobber was willing to believe that Shilo and Marjorie were one and the same. But the big kicker was when Graverobber had gotten the information about the incident involving Marni Wallace's death.

The info about her death had been buried so deeply that the only reason Graverobber's information digger had found it was because he'd said someone else had uncovered it recently. Graverobber's money was on Amber Sweet.

Marni had been nine months pregnant when she'd died. The newborn had supposedly died with her. And the accused murderer? Nathan Wallace. Something about a medical experiment gone wrong. The odd thing was how Nathan Wallace had been released later that day. The charges had been dropped, the man acquitted, and the notorious story was buried. GeneCo had signed on a new RepoMan within an hour of Nathan Wallace walking out a free man.

However, Graverobber hadn't been interested in the late Nathan Wallace. He'd wanted information about Shilo, who didn't seem to exist until after the Opera incident.

But his information digger worked wonders for the right price, and hints of Shilo existed if one knew the right places to look. The most concrete piece of evidence had been the IP address of Shilo's home had been registered to an online schooling agency for three years. And since Nathan Wallace seemed a little old to need to take high school equivalency classes…that left Shilo.

…Who apparently graduated early, Graverobber absently thought.

Graverobber had the horrifying suspicion that Shilo had never been let out of her house before the day that he'd met her in the graveyard. And the idea that something like that had been done to his Sparrow was enough to make his chest ache. And if it WAS true, it certainly put Shilo's odd behaviors and lack of experience with anything to do with the outside world into perspective.

No wonder she seemed so desperate to have his questionable company. Like there weren't a thousand other more appropriate people for her to bond to besides a drug dealer. A drug dealer with virtually no morals… well, okay, he had morals, but he usually didn't exercise them except around her. Hell, he was the guy who usually slept in graveyards and dumpsters. He lived on the fringes of society and he liked it.

Shilo deserved more.

Graverobber shook his head as if to clear the disturbing thoughts out of his head. He was going to visit Sparrow, he was going to get something to fix his hand and black eye, he was going to tease her mercilessly until she threw food at him to shut him up, and then he was going to sleep until the pain behind his eyes went away. Because it was obviously a headache starting. And then he was going to do everything short of begging to get her to change that stupid mutt's name.

A moment later, Graverobber stopped at a junction in the path that led through the graveyard. The statue. The one that started this entire mess. Graverobber stopped in front of it, knowing that it was only a couple of hundred yards from the mausoleum that acted as the back entrance to Shilo's home.

He looked up at it in contemplation. Still mossy green and crumbling. Still the same. And yet, how long had it been since he'd felt the unspoken imploration from the statue? It'd only been a couple of months since he'd first decided to keep an eye on his sparrow, but it seemed years since he'd made that decision.

It only took a minute to get to the mausoleum.

Graverobber pushed the door of the mausoleum open, simply planning on using the hidden tunnel to get the Shilo's house. However, when he saw the curled up figure on top of crypt, Graverobber's plans came to an abrupt halt.

Graverobber's heart skipped a beat when he saw the too still figure on top of the tomb. Impossible thoughts tumbled in his head; each scenario that played in his head was worse than the last. A dark fuzzy head popped up above Shilo's still shoulder and gave a small yip, and the dark spell was broken and rational thought reestablished itself in Graverobber's thoughts.

"Gabriel…?" Shilo's sleepy murmur was the best thing Graverobber had heard all night. And Graverobber put intense effort into ignoring the tiny part of him that seemed to be so happy to hear Sparrow's sleep-filled voice saying _that_ name.

"I still think that's the worst possible name for that mutt." Graverobber quipped in a low voice. Something about the mausoleum made you want to speak in low subdued tones- as if in deference to the sleeping dead. It was an odd feeling for Graverobber, who usually couldn't give a flying fuck about the dead and letting them rest in peace when there was a cred to made from their corpses. Perhaps it was because the mausoleum only held Shilo's mother, who died of something other than a drug overdose that made him feel a need to give respect to someone who was dead and beyond such social graces.

"Graverobber?" Shilo asked sharply, turning over and sliding the blanket off her shoulders. She sat up, dangling her legs off the side of her mother's tomb. The puppy at her side yipped and happily wagged its tail.

Graverobber narrowed his eyes. Even in the dim light of the crypt, Graverobber could see that Shilo's eyes looked red and swollen and her long sleeves were streaked in dark splotches. She'd been crying.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, more than halfway seriously.

"I…" Shilo started, and then she sniffed and swiped a damp sleeve across her eyes. She slid off the tomb and stood on wobbly legs for a moment before she collapsed onto her knees next to the tomb. The puppy on top of the tomb was lying on its belly and was whining in its throat.

Graverobber was already crossing the room when Shilo wrapped one of her arms around her waist, as if she were trying to hold herself together. "Sorry," she said in a watery voice. "I can't seem to stop…" And then she sobbed and buried her face in both her hands.

Graverobber wasn't sure how, but in what seemed to be an instant, he was kneeling in front of Shilo and his hands were pulling her hands away from her face, and then she was sobbing into his shoulder and her hands were fisted in his shirt. For a moment, he didn't know what to do with his hands, but of their own volition, one settled against Shilo's back and started rubbing it and the other settled on the hair at the back of her neck and started smoothing over her silky hair.

"Hey…" Graverobber whispered. "Don't do that." He said in reference to her crying. "You'll get makeup all over my good shirt." He weakly joked. He knew the joke fell flat when Shilo started sobbing harder. She started to pull away and Graverobber tightened his arms around her and gently pushed her back against his shoulder, non-verbally telling her that he was fine with her being there.

A couple of minutes later, Shilo's sobbing became quiet crying until she seemed to run out of tears and simply leaned against Graverobber's shoulder.

"Sorry…" she whispered in a scratchy voice.

Graverobber gave a gentle shrug, mindful of her leaning against his shoulder. "Don't be." He said simply. His hand continued stroking her hair, though the one on her back simply stayed in place, lightly holding her against him.

The puppy, previously forgotten, gave an impatient yip from on top of the tomb. Shilo stirred against his shoulder and finally sat up. Graverobber reluctantly let his hand on her back drop away and pulled his hand away from her hair.

He leaned over and snagged the puppy by the back of its neck and handed it to Shilo, wanting to distract himself from the fact that he missed the comforting warmth that Shilo had made against his chest, or the fact that his shoulder was now cool and clammy from a mixture of what was probably tears and snot. Shilo wordlessly accepted the puppy with one hand, the other scrubbing at her eyes with a sleeve again.

Graverobber mentally winced when he saw how bad Shilo looked now. Her face was swollen and blotchy. Her eyes were almost swollen shut. Her hair was messy and one side was stiff and flattened against her face from where she'd been leaning against Graverobber, the other side looked like some idiot had been carding his clumsy fingers through her hair until it almost stood up on end.

"Better?" Graverobber asked.

Shilo nodded and kept her eyes down, focusing on cuddling the happy puppy to her chest.

Graverobber tried not to be jealous of the little mutt.

He failed.

"You know, if you don't like the mutt's name, you can just change it." Graverobber pointed out. He knew it wasn't the reason Shilo had been crying and seeking comfort from her dead mother, but it was an opening for him to use to find out why she was upset.

"It's not that." Shilo said with a watery sniff.

Graverobber waited for Shilo to elucidate on her statement, but she stayed silent and kept her head down while she absently stroked the puppy's ears.

Graverobber awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. He wasn't the kind of guy who did all the touchy-feely talk-about-your-emotions crap. He was the kind of guy who offered you a hit of the blue when you needed to anesthetize all feeling- metaphorically and literally speaking.

"Christ kid, you're not giving me much to work with." He finally sighed.

Shilo's shoulders seemed to hunch even more inward and he was sure she was definitely not looking at him on purpose now.

"I like Gabriel's name." Shilo finally said.

"It's a terrible name." Graverobber immediately retorted. "But that's not what I'm talking about, and you know it."

Shilo sighed and gently set the puppy down on the ground in between the two of them. It wagged its tail and waddled over to Graverobber. It sniffed the bottom of his coat for a moment before happily starting to gnaw on it.

"What do you do when you find out that everything you knew was a lie?" She asked quietly, still not looking at Graverobber.

"Personally or metaphorically speaking?" Graverobber asked.

Shilo shrugged.

Graverobber gave a gusty sigh. "Can't ask the simple questions, can you?" He nudged the puppy away from his coat before it finished gnawing the button off and then leaned back on his hands. "Well, not sure how it goes for other people, but for me, I got pissed off, left home, did some stupid shit that almost got myself killed, then found a little niche in the world to call my own." He sat up and flipped his hands up in the air. "Voila. Instant Graverobber." He paused for a moment. "I wouldn't recommend doing that though." He said almost in an afterthought.

Shilo snagged the puppy and cuddled it again. "All I did was cry." She said sadly. "Am I just that pathetic?" She asked in a pained voice.

Graverobber snorted. "Sparrow, trust me when I say that you're one of the least pathetic people I know. And I should know; I know a LOT of pathetic people." He said, thinking about all the strung out addicts that needed his product.

"I wanted to… I don't know, break something, or, or, storm out of the house, or _something_." Shilo said quietly. "But I couldn't bring myself to just senselessly break something, even in anger, and I didn't know where I would storm off to, and all I could think about is how everything _hurt_ and…" Shilo's voice trailed off and then she was speaking in a small and tiny voice. "And then I was in here and I was thinking about how it wasn't _fair_ that he loved her so much and he couldn't… he couldn't love me…" She sniffed.

Graverobber reached over and gently wiped the tear on her cheek, wondering how he was going to keep her from crying again, when Shilo finally lifted her head and looked at him. And the pain he saw in her eyes was enough to knock the breath out of him.

"Why couldn't he love me?" She asked in a breathless voice and then her words got stronger and louder as she continued. "Why wasn't I good enough? Why did I have to suffer because of something I had nothing to do with? Why was I punished for existing? WHY?" She demanded of Graverobber.

Graverobber carefully considered the answer that Shilo's eyes begged him to give. "Sometimes people are just broken. And sometimes good people get fucked over for no goddamn reason."

Shilo closed her eyes and her pain was a physical tangible presence.

"What happened?" Graverobber asked.

Shilo sighed. "I was reading in the library and Gabriel was playing in the room, and then I realized I couldn't hear him anymore. And when I went looking for him, I found the entrance to my father's… study." She took a deep breath and swiped at her face with her sleeve again. "And… and I found his…"

She stopped and took a couple of deep breaths and when she spoke again, her voice didn't wobble anymore. "I found where he kept his Repoman supplies…But I didn't care about those. His study was in there too. I remembered that he used to keep a journal. It was in his desk. I thought if I read it… if I read it I could remember how he used to be before…" she paused, likely thinking about the opera incident, and simply skipped over it. "Before everything happened." Her voice cracked and this time, when she went to swipe at her cheeks, Graverobber had a faded, but clean handkerchief that he pressed into her hand.

"I think he might have been insane." She whispered. "The things he wrote..." she trailed off.

When she spoke again, it was in a flat detached voice, like she was quoting something. "_Where did our daughter go? It's me she must escape. Shilo can never leave. She is my everything. Nothing can bring you back. Shilo is all I have. The nightmare that she should fear is the father you left alone!_"

She looked at Graverobber. "Sane people don't poison their daughters so they stay sick, do they. Or talk to dead people like they're still alive. Or believe they're god because they dissect people while they're still alive."

Graverobber couldn't think of anything to say. He opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again, but still nothing came out.

"It's okay." Shilo said with a weak smile on her face. "You don't have to say anything." She told Graverobber. Her smile was brittle and bitter. "What is there to say about something like that?"

Graverobber snagged Shilo's sleeve and tugged her over until she was sitting next to him and draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her against his side. No, he thought, he might not have anything to say. But sometimes silence was the only thing you could say. Sometimes, being a warm body was enough, he decided as Shilo leaned her head on his clean shoulder. His injuries could wait. At the moment, Shilo's injuries of the heart were more important.

* * *

A/N: Blaaaaaaaaaaarg. I started out with this chapter in my head and I was so thrilled to be getting to something I considered the meat and bones of the story… and when it came to putting it down on paper it was like pulling teeth. Honestly? I've had this thing written for the past month, sitting on my computer while I stared at it in frustration, trying to make it better through sheer mind-power. It didn't work. So now I'm just going to throw it up for the readers and try to muscle past it. Maybe I'll go back and fix it later. Blarg.

Reviews are welcome. Especially if someone has an idea on how I can make this chapter better…

~~Elaana


	14. Chapter 15 & 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Repo or anything recognizable from the movie. Anything unrecognizable is from my twisted imaginings and is my own property. Bong!

A/N: Here's the second part. I'm much more satisfied with this chapter than I was with the previous chapter, so I hope it shows!

* * *

Shilo could still feel the edges of hysteria lingering on the periphery of her conscious. All it would take was a single word and she'd descend back into the soggy crying mess she'd been just minutes before. Therefore, Shilo decided, she wouldn't think about it anymore. Her eyes seemed to tighten for a moment and a single tear squeezed out of her swollen eyes.

No! She'd decided she wasn't going to think about that. She wasn't going to think about the past. She was just going to think about the now.

Right now; sitting on the cold cement that was slowly leeching the warmth from her legs and hands, how her butt was very nearly numb, how Graverobber was a warm pillar next to her, how Gabriel was a warm fuzzy thing sprawled across the tops of her legs…

Shilo focused her attention on Gabriel, watching his little body rise and sink in time to his breathing. His belly was warm and soft and she couldn't resist gently rubbing his belly with her hand. His little foot kicked and he gave a contented sigh in his sleep, but didn't awaken. She loved Gabriel. Not like her fa-

Shilo turned her head and pressed her cheek against Graverobber's warm shoulder. She wasn't going to think about that. She closed her eyes and devoted herself to cataloguing the varied smells of Graverobber. She took a deep breath and tried to sort out the smells.

Day old cigarettes and cheap booze. Shilo wondered if Graverobber actually smoked or if he'd just been hanging out in a bar again. There was a musty and damp earthy smell that seemed very familiar… The graveyard, Shilo realized, remembering that Graverobber had come through the mausoleum's door rather than through the secret passage at the back of the building. And then Shilo caught a whiff of something that smelled like rancid meat and curdled milk. Shilo wrinkled her nose. Right. Graverobber seemed to have a fondness for rolling around in garbage, which frankly, made Shilo's skin crawl when she thought about it.

"What's got your face all screwed up like that?" Graverobber asked with the barest hint of amusement in his voice.

Shilo opened her eyes and looked up at Graverobber with a sheepish expression on her face.

"Umm…" Shilo stalled.

"Disappointed that I don't smell like lavender water and rose petals?" He asked with a chuckle.

Shilo glanced down at Gabriel in her lap and shrugged. "You wouldn't be you if you smelled like lavender water and rose petals." Shilo pointed out simply.

Graverobber leaned over and gave Shilo's head an exaggerated sniff.

"Hey…" Shilo half heartedly protested. She tried to shrink away but Graverobber's arm was wrapped around her shoulder, and he tightened his grip and loomed over her.

"You smell like…" He took another sniff. "Pears and oranges?"

Shilo laughed quietly at the look of confusion on Graverobber's face. "_I_ bathe." She pointed out wryly.

"Are you accusing me of unhygienic practices?" Graverobber asked.

Shilo raised an eyebrow. "Have you smelled yourself lately?"

Graverobber stuck his nose up in the air. "I bathed just last week, thank-you."

She snickered. "Did you use soap?"

Graverobber paused and cocked his head to the side while he thought. "Hrm… maybe." he finally said with a half smile on his face. "It's definitely a possibility."

Shilo smiled and leaned her head against Graverobber's arm again. She'd never tell him, but she was sure she would have gone crazy without his perpetual ridiculousness.

Shilo's stomach rumbled and she froze. Graverobber chuckled and his laughter made his arm shake, which in turn, made Shilo's head move as well. After a moment, she laughed a little too.

"Sorry." She murmured.

Graverobber shrugged, again moving her head. "You could make me food to make it up to me." He pointed out. He suddenly stood up and pulled Shilo to his feet. "C'mon. My ass is numb and my stomach is just as hungry as yours is." He started tugging her in the direction of the passageway, only pausing when Shilo stopped to scoop up Gabriel.

"Um…" Shilo glanced down at the floor avoiding Graverobber's eyes.

Graverobber stopped and sighed when he noticed Shilo's reluctance. "You're out of food again?" he asked in resignation.

"…Maybe." Shilo muttered. She felt her cheeks heat up again. "I was planning on shopping, but I kinda got distracted…"

Graverobber's fingers tapped a quick staccato on the top of Shilo's hand while he thought for a moment. Shilo watched him in interest. Graverobber was the kind of person who was always moving while the thought, so you could almost guess what he was thinking based off his actions.

At the moment, he was rocking his head side to side, like he was weighing the pros and cons of something. He was also tapping the heel of his shoe on the floor in an unsteady beat, sometimes pausing, sometimes quickly tapping out an incomprehensible beat. And his fingers were still twitching on her hand since he hadn't let go of her hand yet.

For a second, Shilo wondered if Graverobber had synesthesia, but quickly filed the thought away for later inspection when Graverobber suddenly stopped fidgeting, indicating that he'd reached a decision.

"Right." He finally said. "Let's go shopping." He declared and spun Shilo around on her feet. She almost tripped on her feet, but before she could do more than throw a hand out, Graverobber's hands were on her hips, steadying her and gently pushing her forward, towards the mausoleum door.

"W-wait!" Shilo yelped. "Gabriel-" she started to protest.

"Bah." Graverobber dismissed. "Leave him here. We'll be back soon enough."

"He's just a little puppy!" Shilo protested, digging her heels into the ground and cradling Gabriel against her chest in a protective manner. "You can't just leave him by himself. What if he gets into something or knocks something over or hurts himself or-" she was cut off by Graverobber laying a finger against her lips.

"Fine." He said simply, flipping a hand. "You win. We'll take him along." He started pulling her towards the door again.

"I need a leash for him then." Shilo announced.

Graverobber paused and goggled at her over his shoulder incredulously. "He's a dog." He said with confusion in his voice. "He'll follow along. He doesn't need some rope to be tugged around on."

Shilo narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. "And if he runs out into the street because he doesn't know any better?" she demanded. "Or if he strays off and gets lost?"

Graverobber threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! Fine!" he said with a roll of his eyes. "Unbelievable…" he muttered. "Leash for the dog. I get it." He started rummaging in his coat pockets, almost spinning in a circle while he did so. "Where did…"

And with a crow of triumph, he pulled out a roll of bandages. "Leash." He said proudly. He unwound the roll, tied one end around Gabriel's neck. "Satisfied?" He asked with a grin, looking up at Shilo.

…Which turned into a frown when Shilo held up a leash and tiny collar that dangled from her hand. Shilo covered her grin with one hand and tried not to laugh at the disgruntled look on Graverobber's face.

The puppy yipped excitedly and danced in place, when it saw the collar and leash. She couldn't help but snicker as she untied the bandage from Gabriel's neck and snapped the collar on instead. Shilo bit her lip as she handed the bandage back to Graverobber, because she suspected that laughing at him might be too much for his manly ego at the moment. But she couldn't do anything about how her eyes danced with amusement.

"We're ready now." Shilo said in a voice choked with laughter.

Graverobber declined to speak, instead opening the mausoleum door and holding it open for Shilo and the puppy.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the direction for the grocery store?" Shilo asked nervously. Her fingers plucked at the back of Graverobber's coat and she concentrated on not stepping on the backs of his heels. "I don't remember going this way the last time I went out for groceries."

Graverobber snorted. "Woman, the last time you went out for groceries, you took two buses, a taxi and wandered around for a couple of hours. This is the closest grocery store to your house. Just trust me on this, okay?" He glanced over his shoulder and noticed how nervous Shilo looked. He reached over and snagged Shilo's shoulder, pulling her forward until she was level with him and tucked her under his shoulder.

"Relax." He instructed her. "Stop looking like you want someone to make you into a victim." He grabbed her chin with his fingers and shook her head back and forth lightly.

Shilo batted away his fingers and shot Graverobber a dirty glare. "Stop that."

Graverobber grinned. "That's better." He said cheerfully. "Now just keep that angry look on your face. It makes you look like you want to kill me, rather than begging some creep to come along and kill you."

"Has anyone ever told you you're insane?" Shilo asked absently. For some odd reason, she felt more secure with Graverobber's arm around her shoulder.

"Are you paying attention to the street names?" Graverobber asked. "I'm not going to show you how to get to the grocery store again. And yes."

"What?" Shilo asked, confused.

"What, what?" Graverobber asked. "Pay attention to the street names." He repeated.

"No," Shilo shook her head. "What was that other thing you said?"

"I said that I won't show you how to get to the grocery store again. But don't worry. If you really need me to show you again, I assure you, I'm easily bribable."

Shilo sighed. "Graverobber," she said with fraying patience. "I meant, what was that you said yes to."

Graverobber raised an eyebrow. "You should really pay attention to your own questions, Sparrow."

Shilo scowled. "I pay attention!" she protested. She thought for a moment. Expression… Victim… Kill… Streets… no, wait; it was Kill then… oooooh…

Shilo grinned. "Somebody else has called you insane before?"

Graverobber smirked and flicked Shilo's nose. "Do you even know what street we're on now?" he pointedly asked, ignoring Shilo's question.

"Umm… There was a left, then we walked down the street until we came to the building with the giant smiley face on it, and then… uh…"

Graverobber chuckled. "That's what I thought."

"I'll pay attention on the way back." Shilo promised.

"Right now we're on Selkirk Avenue." Graverobber pointed out. "Alright, here's the rundown. Two blocks up your street, take a left, one block then another left down Incidental- that's where the giant smiley face is on the wall by the way. Go up Incidental to the next street and go past the Chinese food place, take a right and follow Selkirk Avenue down four blocks to the next light, which is at Juniper, and the grocery is across the street."

Shilo nodded and frantically tried to remember the directions. But there were so many streets with so many names. How was she supposed to remember those street names?

Somewhere nearby, a bell tolled.

Ahead of them, a group of people had gathered on the sidewalk in front of a small fenced gate. Shilo curiously craned her head to look past Graverobber's shoulder to see a short gravel path that led to a tall dark building.

The building had several large windows facing the street, all full of oddly colored pieces of glass. She had to stare a moment before she realized that they formed pictures. The window above the door also had pieces of glass in it, but they were all pale, and were carefully laid out to make a cross shape.

Shilo was so struck by curiosity that she didn't notice how Graverobber's arm had tensed up. She did notice when Graverobber started pushing her to the side and started having them cross the street, away from the group of people and the large building.

"Hey, Graverobber, what's that big building over there?" Shilo asked. "Why are we going around it? What's-"

"Shhh, Sparrow. Save the questions for later." Graverobber's voice is tense and distracted and Shilo suddenly notices how tense Graverobber's arm is as he pulls her even deeper into his side. One of the people in front of the large building raised his voice, and Graverobber dropped his head down, making his hair slide forward and obscure his face.

They never changed speed as they walked by the building and the people, but Shilo thought that it was taking Graverobber a great deal of effort to keep from sprinting past the people and the building.

Shilo stumbled on a piece of uneven sidewalk and only Graverobber's presence keeps her from falling. It's too awkward to try to walk while her upper body is being squished into Graverobber's side.

She speaks, intending to tell him to loosen up his grip. "Gr-"

One of the people now directly across the street from them suddenly laughs, and Graverobber's smooth stride hitches. It's a momentary break, and Shilo doubts she would have noticed the subtle pause if she hadn't been plastered against his side. She hesitantly laid a hand against Graverobber's side, needing the extra stability. She ignores how Graverobber's side twitches beneath his shirt, or how the warmth seeps through to her skin.

Instead, she tries to peer up at Graverobber's face. However, this side of the street is much darker than the other side, and his wave of hair is blocking the ambient light that's coming across the street. If she squints, she can just barely make out the darker smear of his lips against the paleness of his skin, and realizes that Graverobber is frowning.

And then the building and the people are behind her and Graverobber, and Shilo wonders how long it'll be before Graverobber can explain what that entire situation had been about.

The bell tolls again. The sound is deep and rich. Gabriel barks.

Shilo almost jumps when a loud voice begins speaking, and Shilo cranes her head over her shoulder to see a tall figure in black standing at the gate of the tall building.

"The hour tolls and day is breaking!" The man called out. People were filing past him and going up the walk towards the tall building. "Come my congregation, step into the Light and we shall begin our sermon. Let not the Darkness keep you at bay, let not the temptations of Man keep you from the Holy Light of our Lord and Savior. All are welcome! None shall be barred from house of God!" the man finished.

Graverobber's snarl is quiet, but Shilo heard it. She glanced up at his face in surprise, shocked by the scowl that is smeared across Graverobber's face. At that moment, Gabriel gave an unexpected tug, and the leash slipped from Shilo's loosened fingers.

"Ah! Gabriel!" Shilo exclaimed. She broke away from Graverobber, intent on catching Gabriel's leash.

* * *

"Dammit Shilo…" Graverobber muttered He failed in catching Shilo's arm as she broke away from him. He banged his hand into his forehead a couple of times in frustration and watched as Shilo chased the puppy. For a moment, he considered slipping away into the dark alley behind him and avoiding the upcoming confrontation he had no doubt would be occurring.

* * *

Shilo felt relief when Gabriel paused when she said his name. But then he looked back at her and wagged his tail and immediately dashed away even faster than he'd initially been running, and Shilo felt the relief slip away like water in a leaky sieve.

"Gabriel!" Shilo yelled again, trying to get Gabriel to stop running. "Stop! Bad dog!"

The puppy just yipped and cantered across the street.

Shilo ran to the corner of the street, trying to head the puppy off from dashing down one of the other streets, and when the puppy saw that, it reversed direction and started running down the street. Shilo immediately chased after him.

"Gabriel!" Shilo called again, this time in frustration. Because her eyes were glued on Gabriel, she didn't see the man in black who'd opened the gate and was quietly calling to the dog. Nor did she see the man toss a wafer onto the path when he'd gotten the dog's attention.

The puppy, seeing the opportunity to get both food, and explore new smells, dashed through the gate, and the man in black quickly closed the gate. Shilo stopped in surprise and looked up at the man in black.

The man in black smiled at Shilo and offered his hand. "Now that your pup has been contained, I'd greatly like to know the name of a girl who keeps an archangel as a guardian."

"Oh. Uh…" Shilo stuttered for a moment. Meeting people wasn't something she had much experience in. "I, my name is Shilo." Belatedly, she realized that the man's hand was still hanging in the air and she hesitantly stuck her hand forward too, not quite sure what she was supposed to do.

The man smiled and grasped Shilo's hand and shook it. He smiled again and Shilo realized there was something oddly familiar about the man. Still, his smile seemed genuine, and his eyes weren't cold and hard like she'd seen in other people's eyes.

"My name is Father Michael." He replied, and let go of Shilo's hand. He turned around and picked up Shilo's puppy, which was happily wagging his tail and licking the man's hands. He chuckled and glanced at Shilo. "I have been a shepherd to many people," he said while opening the gate. "But never to a dog." Father Michael stepped out of the gate and handed the happily wriggling puppy to Shilo. "It seems our Lord decided that I should expand my shepherding abilities."

Shilo hesitantly smiled as she cradled Gabriel to her chest. She guessed that there was a joke in that statement, but not quite sure what it was. "Thank you for catching Gabriel." Shilo told Father Michael.

"It was my pleasure." Father Michael replied. "However, I am interested in how your dog got his name."

"I, uh, saw it in a book?" Shilo said, almost questioningly.

Father Michael chuckled. "The Good Book?" he asked.

Shilo's eyebrows came together in confusion. "No, I read it in a book detailing the life and philosophy of Thomas Aquinas." Shilo paused for a moment, "There's a book called 'The Good Book'?" Shilo couldn't help but ask. "What type of book is that?" she asked curiously.

This time it was Father Michael's eyes that drew together. And Shilo felt an eerie sense of deja-vu when she looked at him.

"You don't know about the Bible, child?" he asked. For the first time, the happiness in his voice was gone and instead Shilo could hear the concern in his voice.

Shilo's stomach clenched in worry. Was she supposed to know about The Bible? Was this something else her father had kept her in ignorance about? Did everyone know about The Bible?

"It um… I think I've heard of it before…?" Shilo stuttered. "I mean, I, um, not from around here… and uh…that is…" Shilo took a step backwards. "Maybe I should just go. I mean, my friend is waiting for me and we were going to, er, we were on our way to-" Where was Graverobber? Shilo belatedly thought.

Father Michael tried to assure Shilo. "It's quite alright, child. Not everyone knows the words of the Lord." He attempted to reach forward to put a hand on Shilo's shoulder, but Shilo took another step backwards. Uncertainty of the situation had made the innocent meeting now seem ominous and threatening to Shilo.

"I should go." Shilo said nervously.

"Please, wait." Father Michael asked so plaintively, that Shilo paused. Father Michael took a deep breath and then said, "Daniel 8:16- And I heard a man's voice between the banks of Ulai, which called, and said, Gabriel, make this man to understand the vision."

Shilo blinked. But didn't say anything.

"You see, Shilo?" Father Michael asked. "It was the duty of Gabriel, an archangel, to make Daniel to understand the vision he'd been sent by God. It's also my job to help people understand God's message. It is no crime to not know of God. That is why my church's doors are open to everyone." Father Michael explained. "Why don't you and your friend come inside?" he asked. "I have a sermon to do in a couple of minutes, and you could learn a lot. Not just about God, either, but about how to live like a good human being and how to keep your soul from eternal damnation." Father Michael persuaded. "I promise you, our congregation is welcome to everyone."

Shilo bit her lip. And quickly scanned the streets, but Graverobber was nowhere to be seen. Why was he so upset about these people and the building? There had to be a reason for it. Shilo hesitantly shook her head. "I… I should go." Shilo finally said.

"But-" Father Michael started to say.

"She said she doesn't want to." Graverobber's silky voice spoke up from behind Shilo. Graverobber's arm draped down over the front of Shilo, and she relaxed when Graverobber's warm body was suddenly solid against her back.

Father Michael took a sharp indrawn breath. "G-"

"Go back to your sheep, God's Dog. Our eternal souls are out of your reach." Graverobber said sharply.

Shilo didn't know what problems Graverobber had with this place or the people, but he obviously had a lot of anger towards Father Michael. Shilo felt very uncomfortable being in between the two of them. Shilo's hands grasped Graverobber's arm, and she pressed herself back, trying to make Graverobber step backwards. Trying to get him to leave. However, Graverobber was as solid as a stone, and Shilo's smaller weight was not enough to move him.

Father Michael seemed to draw himself up, standing tall. "And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death," Father Michael spoke. His voice, while slightly shaky when he started, seemed to gain strength from the words, and he finished in a voice that was strong and almost jubilant. "-In order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him."

Graverobber snarled. "You are of your father the devil, and the desires of your father you want to do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own resources, for he is a liar and the father of it." Graverobber spat out in a voice that was saturated with hatred and anger.

Father Michael recoiled, as if Graverobber had physically hit him. "Gabriel-" he started to say.

"Fuck off, you bastard." Graverobber growled, and spun himself- and Shilo in the process- around.

He pushed Shilo forward. "Walk." he growled. When Shilo stumbled, he caught her elbow and kept her from falling. "Keep walking. Don't look back." Graverobber tersely instructed. He hadn't let go of Shilo's elbow.

"Gabriel!" Father Michael called up the street. "Father's been dead for five years! Give up this travesty of a life and come back to your family!"

Shilo drew in a shocked breath. Graverobber suddenly let go of Shilo and spun around.

"Graverobber! No!" Shilo grabbed Graverobber's arm and hung on, sure that the look in Graverobber's eye meant that he wouldn't use just words at Father Michael this time.

Graverobber growled and shook his arm, trying to dislodge Shilo. "Graverobber, please!" Shilo begged. "Let's just go! Please!"

"Gabriel is dead! You hear me, you cowardly pus-filled corpse-fucking betraying sack of shit? Gabriel is dead and I HAVE NO FAMILY!" Graverobber screamed down the street.

Shilo pulled on Graverobber's arm again, and finally, Graverobber spun around, panting. The violent turn had dislodged Shilo's hand. There was a wild look in his eye and his teeth were bared like a dog that wanted to attack something. His eyes roved up and down the street without seeing anything.

Shilo carefully set Gabriel down on the sidewalk and carefully put one hand gently on Graverobber's arm. "Graverobber?" Shilo asked quietly.

Graverobber's eyes were still wildly scanning the streets and he didn't seem to hear Graverobber.

"Graverobber?" Shilo tried again.

Still nothing.

She tugged a little on his coat, but it had no effect.

Shilo took a deep breath and this time she put her hand against Graverobber's cheek. This time he twitched and his hand came up and caught Shilo's hand before she could pull away from his cheek. His eyes found Shilo's this time.

"Graverobber?" Shilo asked again.

He blinked at her while his chest still heaved.

"Do you want to go back to the house?" Shilo asked. Her heart ached for Graverobber. Whatever just happened, it was the most personal thing she'd seen from Graverobber, and it seemed to have hurt him deeply.

"…No." Graverobber finally said in a ragged voice. "Need a drink."

Shilo nodded. "Okay, we can get you some water-"

Graverobber shook his head and dislodged Shilo's hand from his cheek. "Fuck that. I need something over fifty proof." He seemed to look through Shilo for a moment before his eyes focused on Shilo again. "Sorry, Sparrow. I need to go. I'll see you later."

And then Graverobber disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

Shilo methodically put away the groceries, but her mind was racing from what had happened earlier in the evening. Canned goods in that cupboard… Noodles over there... Bread in the bread box… Meat in the freezer… Dairy in the refrigerator…

She'd never thought about Graverobber having family before. She hadn't really considered that he'd been the kind of person who'd lived in a house or had siblings. Granted, some part of her mind knew that he had to have a past but to her, he was just Graverobber; a perpetual force that had always existed and always will exist. She'd never even considered that Graverobber might have a real name.

Gabriel.

Shilo glanced down at her puppy that was sleeping in his little bed underneath the kitchen table while she put away groceries. Now she understood why Graverobber had such a dislike for that name for the puppy. She briefly considered changing the puppy's name, but decided against it. Graverobber could have said something if he'd really didn't want her to use that name. Besides, she thought it suited the puppy. It definitely didn't suit Graverobber though. The idea of associating that name with Graverobber was so alien, Shilo could barely consider it.

Although…

Shilo reconsidered. If Graverobber didn't have all that makeup on… and he cut his hair… and wore clothes like Father Michael… And didn't smell like a dumpster… Maybe if all that was changed, she might be able to see Graverobber as a Gabriel.

Shilo brushed her hands when she finished putting away the last of the groceries.

She'd been able to find the grocery store after she'd wandered down a couple of streets. But she hadn't been willing to take a chance of trying to find her way back on her own, and especially of going past that church building and simply called for a taxi.

Now that she'd gotten the groceries, and come home, and put the food away, Graverobber had disappeared...

Shilo glanced at the clock. Three hours and eighteen minutes ago.

It was hard for her to consider that only twenty-four hours ago, she'd been hysterical over her own discovery about her father. Her heart still ached when she thought about what happened, but with her worry over Graverobber, the immediate pain of the revelation took a back seat.

Shilo considered making herself something to eat, but she didn't feel hungry. Nevertheless, she went into the kitchen and started gathering the ingredients for pancakes. Maybe Graverobber would come back tonight. Besides, she didn't want him to scold her for starving herself or something like that.

As Shilo mixed the batter, she hoped that Graverobber was okay, wherever he was.

* * *

A/N: Okay! Another double chapter! I briefly considered cutting the chapter off when Gabriel escaped his leash, but I decided that I didn't want to wait too long to get to one of the bigger revelations I had for the story. I can't even tell you guys how long I've had this planned. ^_^

What do you guys think? Is Gabriel a name that fits Graverobber or not? Only a couple of reviewers caught what I'd been hinting at in the last chapter about Graverobber's name. If you caught it, good job!

Oh, that reminds me; I used a couple of bible verses in this chapter. I'll list them in case anyone's interested. But before I start getting fan/hate mail, I just want to point out that I am agnostic: I believe in a higher power, but I don't believe in religion. So while I did have some religious stuff in this chapter, it is NOT going to be a predominant theme in this fic. The closest I get to being religious is that I follow the golden rule of 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.'

_**Bible Verses (In order of use):**_

_**Daniel 8:16 And I heard a man's voice between the banks of Ulai, which called, and said, Gabriel, make this man to understand the vision.**_

_**Colossians 1:21-23 And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him.**_

_**John 8:44 You are of your father the devil, and the desires of your father you want to do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaks a lie, he speaks from his own resources, for he is a liar and the father of it.**_

Thanks for reading and feel free to leave me a review! I always like hearing what people think about my chapters! PS- I really like responding to people's reviews, especially if they have a question or a comment that needs explanations, but I can only comment back on a review if the person is logged in! . Not saying you HAVE to log in to leave a review, but if you have a question or if you want me to reply to your review, I can't do it if you're anonymous. : )

~~Elaana


	15. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is recognizable from the movie and I make no money. …if someone offered me money, I'm afraid I have to be honest and say that I would totally take it. But hey! I'm a young 20 year something working six days a week on a barely livable wage. Do you blame me?

A/N: Another month, another chapter. Dear god, do I actually have a schedule? When did that happen? Once again, thank you to all my lovely reviewers- your comments are what makes my brain do the happy dance. And happy dance = percolating thoughts = another chapter written! So keep em coming if you like the fic!

* * *

Graverobber swayed for a moment, then his shoulder collided with the alley wall and he slowly sank down the wall. He absently lifted his hand to take a drink from the bottle of rum clutched in his hand, not realizing that the bottle had been empty for the past hour and a half. Graverobber gulped the empty air in the bottle, confused for a moment. He blearily peered into the bottle, and, when unable to find the fluid, mournfully upended it and shook it a couple of times, trying to make more rum appear.

Graverobber suddenly threw the bottle away in a fit of temper and an angry snarl. It shattered against the opposite wall in a satisfying explosion of brittle shards that seemed to sparkle in orange lamplight.

The sparkles of glass reminded Graverobber of a past he'd been attempting to drown in alcohol for the past six hours. He sighed tiredly and closed his eyes and thumped the back of his head against the wall he was slumped against.

_"Gabriel! Up, peas!"_

With a choked gasp, Graverobber sat up, clutching his head. No! He didn't want to remember!

_Impossibly tiny hands were stretched up, imperiously demanding that Gabriel pick up the little girl who still had a smudge of dirt on one cheek. Her blue eyes were full of happiness and trust, and she screeched in delight as Gabriel scooped her up and gently tossed her into the air. He caught her and she giggled. Slightly larger hands grabbed onto the back of Gabriel's shirt and tugged, and it was all the warning Gabriel had before gangly legs enclosed in grass-stained pants wrapped around his waist and there was coltish laughter in his ear._

Graverobber lurched to his feet and staggered out of the alley in a drunken lope, still clutching his head. He needed more alcohol. Right the fuck NOW. But it didn't matter how quickly Graverobber ran, the memories easily caught up to him.

_"Where the fuck is she, Michael?" Gabriel yelled in his brother's face. His hands tightened in Michael's shirt, and he lifted him farther into the air, where Michel's feet kicked in the air, ineffectually trying to find purchase on the ground he couldn't reach._

_"Gabriel, get a hold of yourself! You don't understand!" Michael rasped. His hands plucked at Gabriel's arms, trying to break the grasp that was slowly strangling him with his own shirt collar._

_"The fuck I don't!" Gabriel growled. He shook Michael in frustration. "She's our baby sister and you didn't even try to stop that bastard from taking her away, did you?" Gabriel felt that dangerous rage build up inside of him. He violently shook Michael, not caring when Michael's head whipped back and forth like a doll with a loose neck and he made a choked sound. "Answer me!" He screamed in Michael's face._

_"She…was possessed…" Michael rasped, desperate to make his older brother see the truth of what their father had to do. _

_Gabriel stopped shaking Michael, a shocked look on his face. Michael rushed on, almost stumbling to get the words out of his mouth before Gabriel started assaulting him again. "You weren't here, Gabe. You haven't been home in almost six months! At first, it was just her acting a little oddly. She forgot where she was, or what she was doing… but it kept getting worse! Soon, she was speaking in tongues all the time… and she'd start screaming when we knelt for morning prayers… She kept getting worse and worse." _

_Michael gasped for breath and felt the tips of his toes brush the ground, he talked faster, trying to get the entire explanation out. "Father knew something was wrong… he called for Archbishop Garis and they did an anointing of the sick to try and heal her, and she…" Michael gulped, "She…convulsed when the Archbishop placed the blessed oil on her forehead. She screamed and flailed like the touch of the oil burned her… She struck Archbishop Garis! They knew, Gabe. They knew that she was possessed…So you see? They had to take her away; because they needed to perform the exorcism! They're trying to save her!"_

_Gabriel saw red and suddenly, Michael was flying through the air and crashing into the opposite wall._

_"When did you get so goddamn STUPID, Michael?" Gabriel yelled at Michael. "She was sick, you moron! Dear-fucking-dad bashed her brains in one too many times in his post-Sunday-sermon drinking binges and knocked something loose in her head! But Father can't do anything wrong in your eyes, can he, Michael? Doesn't matter if he beats us for imagined faults, or throws bottles at our heads or tries to light our goddamned hands on fire…!" Gabriel trailed off, losing the ability to speak from the amount of fury that rushed through him. He panted in anger before he spun around and with a wild yell of anger and frustration and resentment, he slammed his fist through the drywall and plaster of the wall behind him._

_Michael woozily stood up, one hand braced against the wall he'd been thrown against. _

_Gabriel's attention was pulled back to his stupid, naïve, hopelessly-sheep-like brother. The one that Gabriel couldn't help but lay all the blame of this entire problem on. He crossed the room and slammed Michael into the wall before Michael had time to recover. "I TOLD you I had to leave!" Gabriel yelled in Michael's face, he slammed Michael back into the wall. "I TOLD you I needed to get the money to take Molly to the fucking hospital!" Gabriel slammed Michael into the wall again. "I TOLD you to keep Molly safe while I was gone! I told YOU, Michael! YOU! You were supposed be the big brother while I was gone and do your best-goddamned-brotherly job to protect her!"_

_Michael sagged limply in Gabriel's hands. There were cracks in the wall that radiated out from where Gabriel had repeatedly slammed Michael into the worn plaster. He coughed weakly and his head rolled to the side, as though his neck was no longer strong enough to hold his head up._

_Gabriel used one hand and carefully propped Michael's head up, ignoring the choked sounds Michael made as his hand pressed down on Michael's windpipe. He leaned in close and in a dangerously calm voice said, "I'm not going to ask you again, Michael. You're going to tell me where they took Molly. Right. Fucking. Now."_

_Silence echoed in the room, heavy and oppressing. One breath… two… Gabriel's eyes narrowed and his fingers twitched against Michael's throat. Michael closed his eyes, perhaps fearing that he really was about to die at the hands of his older brother._

_'The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me lie in green pastures…'_

_There was a light snap and something cool slithered from around Michael's neck. His eyes snapped open in horror. Gabriel held up the broken rosary and allowed the crucifix on the end to slowly dangle in front of Michael's horrified eyes._

_"What's Psalm 12:5, Michael?" Gabriel whispered._

_Michael swallowed, but his eyes never left the rosary. In a voice rough with abuse he said, "'Because of the oppression of the weak and the groaning of the needy, I will now arise,' sayith the Lord. 'I will protect them from those who malign them.'" _

_Michael was still for a moment, and then the realization struck him and he trembled. "God…Forgive me…" he said in a broken voice. His eyes were full of pain and regret and sorrow. And when his eyes met Gabriel's hard gaze, Michael had to drop his eyes in shame. "St. Peter's Cathedral." Michael whispered almost inaudibly. _

_Gabriel immediately dropped his brother and spun around, heading for the doorway. He tossed the rosary over his shoulder where it landed on the ground near Michael's collapsed form._

_"Gabriel!" Michael called out brokenly, but Gabriel was already out the door. "I'm… I'm sorry…"_

* * *

Graverobber woke up cold, aching, and covered with dew. There was also the small matter of the headache that currently threatened to split his head in half. The air was at the beginning stages of predawn, and everything seemed to be shrouded in a light purple haze. He groaned and slowly uncurled from the ball he'd managed to fold himself into. His elbow knocked into something solid and unyielding.

He looked up and resisted the urge to curse. He was really starting to hate that statue. He would swear he could feel the statue's disapproving stare. Yeah, well, fuck you too.

Nearby, a mostly empty amber bottle lay on its side, uncapped. He reached for it and downed the last couple of swallows that was still left inside. Hair of the dog, and all that. With the warmth coursing down his stomach, temporarily anesthetizing the ache in his head, Graverobber was able to finish unfolding his lanky frame and sat up against the foot of the statue's base. He looked at the now empty bottle in his hands with regret; it was a sight he'd been seeing with disappointing frequency throughout the night.

He started patting himself down, hoping that this time he'd remembered to stash another bottle in his coat…

He rolled his head and eyed himself in disappointed resignation. Shirt, pants, one boot… no coat. Well hell, apparently his coat had been a casualty of the night. Graverobber tried to remember what happened to his coat. He pursed his lips. Nothing.

The sky with lightening with streak of pale pinks and purples.

Graverobber watched the sky with a sense of detachment. He absently scratched his neck, frowned when he found blood at his fingertips. He carefully felt around his neck again and found a shallow nick under his jaw, next to his ear.

Graverobber had a vague recollection of stumbling out of a bar and being pulled into an alley- light glinting off of the sharpened piece of metal that was held under his throat; a shiv. His eye throbbed in remembrance and he gently touched the swollen skin under his eye as he remembered taking a two-by-four to the face. Then he'd been on the ground incapacitated by the pain… And someone had pulled off his coat while the other rifled through his pockets. A kick to the stomach- ah, that was why his ribs had ached- and then laughter fading into the distance.

Graverobber glared at nothing in particular. Whoever those fuckers were, they were going to suffer for the rest of their short lives. And then he'd get his coat back.

Lights flashed from the nearby street and Graverobber flinched. He really didn't need to get caught by GEenforcers to round out his night. Graverobber gingerly climbed to his feet and started making his way deeper into the graveyard.

* * *

Somewhere in the house, a clock gave six low chimes. Graverobber sat against the wall, thinking and watching his Sparrow sleep. He suspected that he may have crossed some unspoken line by entering Shilo's room while she was sleeping, but the light buzz he was still sporting from his all night binge made it difficult to care about something as minor as morals. Shilo's bandaged hand was loosely curled on the pillow in front of her face, and her deep breathing was testament that she was still asleep.

The puppy- that stupid dog that had caused this entire problem- was sprawled on the floor next to Graverobber, where he'd initially settled down when Graverobber had entered the room earlier. He ignored the sleeping dog, still annoyed with himself that he'd even given the puppy a perfunctory pat on the head when it'd first greeted him.

He hadn't meant to come all the way into the house. He'd planned to simply camp out in the mausoleum and sleep off the rest of his hangover, but his memories wouldn't let him. So he'd entered the house, telling himself that he was just going to go crash on the couch in the living room… And then he decided that he would crash in the bed in the spare room that he sometimes slept in; it was practically his at this point anyways, it's not like Shilo had anyone else sleeping over at her home. But for some reason, he'd walked past the spare bedroom until he was standing in front of Shilo's bedroom doorway.

He'd like to think that if Shilo's door had been closed, he would have been able to turn around and go back to the spare room… but it hadn't. The door swung open on silent hinges when Graverobber had lightly pushed on it.

Graverobber clung to the one redeeming point to the entire inappropriate situation; he hadn't done anything but watch Sparrow sleep since he'd come into her room.

The house was quiet enough that Graverobber heard the slight hitching in Shilo's breathing. She moved her head restlessly and her fingers briefly dug into her pillow. Her eyebrows crinkled.

Graverobber sighed. Looks like he wasn't the only one who was being haunted by the past.

He had an impulse to get up and go over to Shilo, but he resisted it. He only had a tiny bit of morality left, and he wasn't going to throw that away just on a whim. Then she whimpered in her sleep. Graverobber rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands in frustration, but he didn't hesitate to stand up. He crossed the room in silence

He let his hand glide over Shilo's baby fine hair. The first time he'd ever done this, so many weeks ago, he'd worried about his rough fingertips catching in her fine hair, but now that he'd already done it several times before; he didn't bother worrying anymore.

"None of that, Sparrow." He murmured quietly. "Go back to sleep. Everything's fine."

Shilo sighed but her eyes never opened. She sleepily mumbled, but the only word that Graverobber could make out was when she asked, "Daddy?" The rest of her mumbles afterward were indistinguishable to Graverobber's hearing.

"Go back to sleep, Shilo." Graverobber repeated.

Shilo mumbled something else, but seemed to comply with the request and snuggled deeper into her covers, falling still again.

Graverobber slid his hand over Shilo's hair one more time, lingering over her sleeping form. Then he gently pulled the blanket back up the Shilo's chin. This time, when the heartburn struck Graverobber, he was tired and hung over enough that he didn't try to fool himself. It wasn't heartburn. It was heartache.

An exhausted Graverobber went back to the piece of wall that he'd claimed as his own. The puppy crawled into his lap. Graverobber patted the puppy on his head and closed his eyes. Sunlight was finally starting to streak across the sky outside Shilo's window.

The only thing Graverobber hoped as he fell asleep was that he wouldn't remember any of his dreams.

* * *

A/N: For once, I have nothing interesting, amusing, self deprecating or unusual to say except that I'm very excited to write this particular story arc, so I have no idea why I'm not writing it faster. Feel free to review with questions, comments, insights, or anything else that strikes your fancy!

~~Ellaana


	16. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize from the movie. Everything else is a mixture of an overactive imagination and a grandiose sense of delusion.

A/N: Okay… so as soon as I realized that I was updating once a month, of COURSE I had to go and flub it. Sorry about that. RL decided to throw me a couple of curveballs. (Swing-and-a-MISS!) Anyways, enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

Shilo sighed and once again checked to make sure that Graverobber was still breathing. She carefully watched as his chest steadily expanded and contracted in slow and steady movements. Much better than the erratic breathing he'd had when she'd initially dragged him into a bed. Still, it'd been over three days since she'd woken up to discover Graverobber unconscious on her bedroom floor and he still wasn't showing any signs of waking up soon.

A lump formed in Shilo's throat and tears pricked the corners of her eyes. She quickly swallowed and took several deep breaths to try and get rid of the lump. "You idiot…" Shilo muttered as she smoothed down the blanket that was currently covering Graverobber's still form. It was easier to be angry and annoyed with Graverobber than scared and worried.

Shilo carefully pulled a chair up to Graverobber's bedside and took a deep breath. Everything she'd researched indicated that sometimes people who were unconscious could hear people speaking to them. And maybe Graverobber just needed a nudge to remember that he needed to wake up.

"So…" Shilo said uncertainly, her hands clenched and unclenched in the fabric of her pants. She didn't know what to do with her hands. Should she hold his hand? "I just want you to know that I'm not making a single pancake until you wake up. I've been eating them for the past two days and me and Ga- the puppy- are sick of them." Shilo informed Graverobber's still form.

"Um…" Shilo tried to think about what else to say. "The puppy managed to completely chew up one of my shoes yesterday. He was throwing up little pieces of leather all night, so you should be glad you missed that." Shilo winced at herself. She was supposed to say positive things, right? Things that were supposed to make him want to wake up. Vomiting puppies weren't going to make him wake up.

Shilo sighed again and sagged forward into the chair. "You've been asleep for three days, Graverobber." She said softly. "If I hadn't heard Gabriel making so much noise- if I hadn't realized that you were choking in your own vomit…" Shilo let out a shaky breath and pressed her hands to her eyes to try and rub out the stinging that precluded tears falling.

"You stupid, stupid man." Shilo whispered to herself.

Shilo didn't care anymore and snagged Graverobber's hand. The slight twitching of Graverobber's fingers against the palm of her hand reassured her and helped Shilo get control of herself.

"You have to wake up, Graverobber. You won't swallow when I try to give you fluids anymore and I'm worried you're falling deeper into the co- deeper into unconsciousness. And if I can't get you to drink manually, I'll have to take you to a doctor." Shilo paused hoping that statement would get some instinctive reaction from Graverobber, but there was nothing.

"I mean it." Shilo said firmly. "I'll… I'll throw you into a cab and take you to a hospital and they'll put you in one of those little rooms and start hooking up machines to you and some creepy doctor with buy-eyed glasses will stare at you and then they'll poke you and prod you with needles and tubes…"

Graverobber's hand twitched.

Shilo's breath caught and she squeezed Graverobber's hand back. "Yeah, that's right." Shilo said with false bravado. "I'll take you to the biggest hospital I can find and I'll find the most obnoxious doctor on staff and I'll make them pester you every second of every day until you wake up."

Shilo kept squeezing Graverobber's hand, but besides the initial twitch, nothing else happened. But Shilo ignored the brief stab of disappointment. He'd reacted. She'd get him to do it again. She'd stay there all night if she needed to.

"I'll keep pestering you too." Shilo said softly. She focused on Graverobber's hand and used her fingertips to trace invisible patterns on the back of his hand while she kept talking.

"I won't stop talking until you tell me to shut up. Because I miss you and I'm worried about you. And whether you know it or not, you're important to me and…" Shilo hesitated. "And…" She sniffled and squeezed Graverobber's hand tightly.

"And I need you." She said in a tiny voice. She tried to swipe away the tears that had started to fall down her cheeks. "Because without you, I would have just faded away and stopped existing. You made me real. And you can't just-" A sob jumped out of Shilo's throat and she buried her head in the blankets next to Graverobber's hand.

"You can't just leave me alone again. You just can't." Shilo sobbed in a voice muffled by the blankets. "Please, Graverobber? Please be okay? I promise I won't nag you or yell at you ever again, and if you want me to, I'll change the puppy's name, and I'll make you pancakes all the time and I won't complain when you smell like garbage or cigarettes and…"

Shilo's voice gave out and she simply sobbed into the blankets. She let go of Graverobber's hand and simply clenched the blankets in tight fists while she cried out all the worries and fears that had been building inside of her since she'd found Graverobber.

What if he hadn't made it to her house? What if she hadn't woken up when he'd been drowning in his own vomit? What he had brain damage from whatever had hit him in the face? What if he never woke up? It was all her fault; she shouldn't have made him go to the store with her… She shouldn't have taken the puppy along… She shouldn't have let him go away on his own… She should have taken him to a hospital when he hadn't woken up the first night…

Shilo cried it all into the blankets while she sat at Graverobber's side.

At first, she didn't even notice the feather light touches on her hair. Then something gently tugged on a strand of her hair.

"Go'way, Gabriel…" Shilo cried into the blanket, not bothering to lift her head. She pushed her arm to the side to try to push the puppy away from her head. But whatever was touching her hair didn't stop.

"Stop…leaking…" a raspy voice weakly whispered.

Shilo's breath hitched and her head shot up to look at Graverobber, hardly daring to hope. "Graverobber?" Shilo whispered.

His eyes were still closed. Shilo felt crushing disappointment before one of Graverobber's eyes fluttered open and the corner of his mouth twitched up for a moment. His hand twitched on the blanket, fingers weakly groping. Shilo immediately scooped up his hand and squeezed it.

"Graverobber?" Shilo asked again.

"Sp'rro…" Graverobber mumbled in an exhale.

"I'm here." Shilo said quickly. She squeezed his hand again and gave a watery laugh when he weakly squeezed back.

His mouth twitched upwards again and Shilo smiled back at him, not caring that her face was a mess from crying just moments before.

"Tha's… better…" he rasped. He seemed to be having a difficult time keeping his eye open.

"How do you feel?" Shilo asked quickly, trying to help keep Graverobber awake.

"Tired…" Graverobber replied. His eye slipped closed and his breathing fell into the deep regular pattern of normal sleep.

Shilo felt like there was a huge buildup of pressure in her chest, and she bit her lip in order to keep the excitement? Joy? Annoyance? From leaping out of her chest.

She carefully set Graverobber's hand down and gently patted it. "Get some sleep." Shilo said quietly. "I'll be here when you wake up."

* * *

A/N: My apologies that this chapter is about half the size it usually is. And that is because number one, Shilo and GR wouldn't cooperate (In fact, this scene was inspired by the fact that I threw my notebook across the room because GR wouldn't give me a single damn line and I was like, FINE- now you're in a coma and you get no lines at ALL!). And number two, the end of the scene is so awkward, I couldn't figure out another better break for the chapter without having to do one of my marathon chapters. So hopefully, I should be updating again soon with more goodies for you guys! Remember, reviews always make me get the next chapter out faster… XD

~~Elaana


	17. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I own nothing that can be recognized from the movie. *wistful sigh*

AN: Awww! My reviewers are so awesome! To answer one reviewer's comment; I almost tortured you guys by writing out the three days of Shilo waiting by Graverobber's bedside and then and making you guys wait for the next chapter to answer whether GR woke up. But since I love having conclusions to my chapters, you guys got the version where GR woke up instead! Y'all can thank me by reviewing… just saying… *wink*

* * *

Graverobber was grateful for the time that Shilo was currently giving him to rest up before she started the barrage of questions that he knew she had. He was grateful that he was in a bed that didn't have a colony of bugs living in it with a non-leaky roof over his head. But he was especially grateful for the glass full of juice that Shilo lifted to his lips. Sweet nirvana; its name was juice.

"Slow down, Graverobber, you'll make yourself sick if you keep drinking that fast. I've got plenty of juice. Just take sips, okay?" Shilo said as she pulled the now-empty glass away from Graverobber's dry lips.

"Sparrow…" Graverobber whined weakly. "I'm dying of thirst here."

Shilo tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she refilled the glass. "It's not going to do you any good if you throw it all up immediately after drinking it," she pointed out. "So just take sips this time." She instructed Graverobber as she lifted the glass to Graverobber's lips again.

He took one big gulp before Shilo abruptly pulled the glass away, almost spilling the glass down the front of his reclined form.

"Sparrow!" Graverobber whined again.

"Graverobber!" Shilo shot back at him in a mocking tone. She propped on hand on her hip and leveled a glare at him. "SIPS. Graverobber. Otherwise I'll just set you up on an IV fluid line." She threatened.

Graverobber rolled his eyes. "Fine. SIPS." he growled, irritated in general by the entire situation. Sparrow was lucky he was too weak to drag himself to the bathroom, otherwise he'd just turn the tap on and drink until that irritating dryness at the back of his throat went away. "Just keep your damn needles away from me." he muttered as Shilo once again set the glass to his lips.

Sips. He reminded himself over and over again. Sips. Sips. Sips…

He sighed when the damn glass was empty again. He flopped his head back against the pillow behind him and growled in annoyance. He hated being this weak.

"Are you tired again, Graverobber?" Shilo asked in soft concern.

Graverobber resisted the urge to snap as Sparrow. He hated being mothered over. "I'm tired of being so damn weak that a wet noodle could kick my ass." he said through clenched teeth.

The corner of Shilo's mouth quirked up for a moment before she busied herself with pouring another glass of juice for Graverobber. "It's not that bad," she replied with a small smile. "At least you can stay awake for longer than an hour now."

Graverobber did growl this time. But he knew it was weak and pathetic sounding. He couldn't even hold a glass, for Z's sake!

Shilo lifted the glass up for Graverobber again and she gave him an encouraging smile. "Look, I know it seems bad right now, but you're improving by leaps and bounds. You'll be back to your old self in no time."

Graverobber scowled but sipped the juice instead of answering her.

"Tomorrow we'll try you on some soup, okay? And if you can hold that down, we'll get you started on some solid food. By that point, I expect you'll be up and moving."

The empty glass was pulled away from Graverobber's lips again and this time a wave of fatigue hit Graverobber as he let his head fall back on the pillow behind him. He tried to stop the yawn, but it was out before he could stop it. His eyes felt heavy…

Graverobber yanked them open and bit on his cheek. He was tired of sleeping all the time!

"If you're tired then you should sleep, Graverobber." Shilo absently spoke while she shook out some pills into her hand.

"I've slept enough." Graverobber griped.

"Being unconscious isn't the same as sleeping," Shilo lectured. "Between whatever turned you black and blue and the alcohol poisoning, your body shut itself down to the most basic of functions to focus on repairing the most critical issues. Whatever turned your face black and blue might have caused swelling around your neural cortex. And until that swelling went down and your body's chemistry functions reached a stable point, you couldn't wake up." Shilo paused while she poured another glass of juice. "However, sleep is different than being unconscious. Sleep is a restful state that allows your body to continue repairing itself. The more sleep you get, the faster you'll get better."

Shilo offered the pills on her hand to Graverobber. He frowned as he looked at them. "What're these?" he asked suspiciously.

"The white ones are just a mild pain reliever and anti-inflammatory, to help with your injuries. The green one is a general antibiotic. The purple one is a multi-vitamin. The yellow one is a sugar pill, and the light pink one is to make sure your stomach doesn't get upset." She held her hand out to Graverobber again.

He eyeballed the pills again. "Are you sure these are necessary?" he asked.

Shilo rolled her eyes. "Yes." she said simply. "Do you want me to crush them up and put them in the juice?" she asked.

Graverobber sighed and clumsily swiped the pills out of her palm and popped them all into his mouth. He grimaced while he swallowed them dry. Shilo waited until he swallowed and held the glass while Graverobber drank the juice to erase the bitter taste out of his mouth.

"At least you're not at a hospital." Shilo said with cheery optimism.

"Bah." Graverobber said in a tired sigh as he closed his eyes. There was a moment of silence, then Graverobber clumsily threw out his hand and caught Shilo's wrist before she left. "Stay with me," he awkwardly requested. "Keep me awake."

Visions of Molly danced around the perimeter of Graverobber's memories. He didn't want to remember. Didn't want to dream.

Shilo sighed, but didn't pull her wrist away from Graverobber's grasp. "Graverobber…" she started to speak.

With his eyes still closed, Graverobber limply flipped his other hand, waving away the lecture she was about to deliver. "I know, I know. Sleep will help me get better, but I don't want to sleep yet. Just stay for a while longer, alright?"

There was another pause, but Graverobber kept his weak grasp on Shilo's wrist and finally, she moved towards the bed again. There was the scrape of a chair and then he heard her sigh as she sat back into it.

"How am I supposed to keep you awake?" she finally asked.

Graverobber smirked, hearing the light touch of unease in Sparrow's voice. Poking and prodding an injured man; THAT Shilo could do, but the idea of simply keeping someone company stumped her. His thumb absently stroked across Shilo's pulse point.

"Got any cards?" he asked with a light grin on his face.

Shilo huffed and tried to lightly tug her wrist out of Graverobber's grasp. He kept a hold of her. "No. Dad said cards were a form of juvenile entertainment for the lazy man's mind."

Graverobber scoffed. "Figures…" he muttered. "Doesn't matter. Cards aren't the same without booze and hookers…"

"…There's a chess set in the sitting room." Shilo offered.

Graverobber chuckled as his thumb stroked over Shilo's wrist again. "Nah. I suck at chess. Too impatient."

"I could move the vid screen from my room into here for you." Shilo offered instead.

"Don't bother. I don't watch the vids. It's full of lies and propaganda."

Graverobber could feel the movement through Shilo's arm as she restlessly moved. "Then what am I supposed to do?" she finally asked.

Graverobber shrugged. "Just talk to me."

Shilo's arm moved again. "About what?" she asked in exasperation.

Graverobber frowned and opened one eye to briefly glance at Shilo. Her legs were folded under her as she reclined in the sitting chair that she'd pulled up to the bed. She wasn't looking at him, instead, she was looking down at her wrist, where Graverobber's hand was still loosely holding onto her. He noticed that she looked nervous; her eyebrows were pulled together and she was chewing on the thumbnail of the hand that he wasn't trapping. He closed his eye before Shilo realized that he'd been looking at her.

"Graverobber?"

"Anything." he instructed her.

Shilo blew out a long breath before she suddenly asked, "Why were you so upset that night you left?"

Graverobber froze and for a moment, he felt like someone had punched him right in the gut.

Molly. The memories tried to bury Graverobber and flashes of moments whirled in front of his eyes. Michael bruised and bloody on the ground in front of that cracked wall. Molly twirling herself in a field full of flowers. His father's angry blotchy face as the belt swung down at-

Graverobber's eyes popped open and he stared at the ceiling as he forced the memories away.

"I'm sorry." Shilo quickly backpedaled. "It's none of my business. Forget I asked." She tried to pull her wrist out of Graverobber's grasp again, and Graverobber let her wrist slide out of his grasp, only to grab her hand instead. The contact helped remind him of where he was. It grounded him.

Graverobber swallowed. "Not…" he quietly cleared his throat. "Not right now. Okay, Sparrow? Ask me some other time."

"I'm sorry." Shilo whispered. Her hand turned in his grasp and suddenly, she was holding his hand as much as he was holding onto hers. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back.

"How old are you?" Shilo asked instead.

Graverobber grinned. "Old enough to know better, young enough to not care." he quipped with forced levity.

Shilo wrinkled her nose at him. "That's not a real answer." she complained.

Graverobber shrugged. "Fraid it's the only one I've got." he said playfully, this time with a genuine smirk on his face.

Shilo huffed. "Is there any question that you would truthfully answer?" Shilo asked with a roll of her eyes.

"My favorite food is pancakes. I hate piano concertos, pickles, and cats. My hobbies include grave robbing, drug dealing, cheating at cards, and making GEnforcers looks stupid."

Shilo blinked. "But I already knew half that stuff already!" she protested.

Graverobber grinned. "Then that means you know me better than anyone else in this city."

Shilo opened her mouth, but Graverobber interrupted her.

"My turn to ask a question." he announced. "What… is your favorite food?"

"Strawberry ice cream." Shilo answered promptly.

"Who was your first crush?" Graverobber asked quickly.

Shilo laughed and shook her head. "No! You already asked a question!" she pointed out.

"But I answered three questions!" Graverobber protested.

Shilo snorted and shook her head. "You gave three answers to questions I didn't get to ask." She pointed out. "And you wouldn't answer the question I DID ask, so that means I'm allowed to decline answering your question." Shilo finished in a triumphant tone.

Graverobber smirked at her. "I'll answer it if you'll answer it." He offered slyly.

Shilo pursed her lips and looked at him. Graverobber tried to look innocent.

"…You answer first." Shilo finally said.

Graverobber scoffed. "It's my question!"

Shilo shook her head with a grin on her face. "But I'm not the one with a history of cheating, am I?"

Graverobber sighed and dramatically flung one arm over his face. "I'm very hurt that you have so little trust in me, Sparrow."

"Are you going to answer or not?" Shilo replied with a laugh.

Graverobber removed the arm over his face and rolled his eyes at Shilo. "Fifth grade; Stephanie Lipparozi" He promptly said.

Shilo eyed him for a moment. "How do I know you didn't just make that name up?" she asked suspiciously.

Graverobber laughed. "So little trust!" he complained. "Stop stalling and tell me who made little Sparrow's heart go thump-thump."

Shilo sighed. "You have to promise not to laugh." she warned him.

"I won't." Graverobber said with a twinkle in his eye.

"…Jim Hawkins." Shilo muttered.

"From…?" Graverobber prompted her.

"…Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island…" Shilo muttered and avoided making eye contact.

"A book?" Graverobber clarified.

Shilo flushed. "Look, I wasn't allowed to go outside or be around other people. I was home schooled and all I had was my dad and my books."

There was a moment of silence and then Graverobber spoke up again. "Why him?"

"Why who?" Shilo asked in irritation.

"That Jim guy from the book." Graverobber clarified. "Why him?"

"Why Stephanie LeRoss?" Shilo countered back.

"Because Stephanie _Lipparozi_ had the biggest breasts of any fifth grader and she sat right across from me."

Shilo looked at him incredulously. "That's the dumbest reason ever!"

Graverobber shrugged. "I didn't say it was a good reason. So why Jim Henderson?"

"Jim Hawkins." Shilo corrected him. "He was… I dunno. The epitome of everything good and honest and everything I wasn't? Not only did he go outside, he went to an unexplored island, and rescued a marooned man and thwarted a ship full of evil pirates and returned home with the treasure and as a hero."

"Ahhh…" Graverobber said with a knowing grin. "The hero. Girls always go crazy over the hero."

Shilo scoffed. "Well not all of us can be emotionally invested in a pair of breasts."

"Not just any breasts, Sparrow. These were C-cups that were dangerously close to spilling out of her low cut blouse and-"

"Eugh! Enough!" Shilo protested. "I don't need to know the details."

"You asked." Graverobber pointed out.

"What's your favorite memory?" Shilo asked in an effort to change the subject. "And no, you can't use Stephanie Lipparozi's breasts again."

"Hmm…" Graverobber thought about it. "You go first, and then I'll answer."

Shilo smiled, but it was a smile that Graverobber had never seen before. It wasn't a humorous smile, or a relieved smile. It wasn't one of those fake smiles that she used when she was uncomfortable. It seemed to almost add a glow to Shilo; like she used her entire body in the smile. It was, Graverobber realized, a real genuine, happy smile. And Graverobber had never seen Shilo smile like that.

"It was my fourth birthday, before I got really sick. I remember my hair was still long and my dad woke me up early in the morning and told me that he'd taken the day off and we'd have all day together. He loved my hair… And he brushed it, and while he brushed it, he counted it. 'One stroke, to get the sleepies out of your eyes,' he'd say. 'Two strokes to get the tangles out. Three to add the shine. Four makes you absolutely beautiful, five makes you smart, and six strokes because you're my girl!'" Shilo's smile dimmed for a moment, but then she continued speaking.

"Then he picked me up and tossed me in the air. And when he caught me, I felt like it was the safest place in the world. We'd spent all day in our pajamas- and my dad was the kind of man who expected you to be dressed and ready for the day as soon as you woke up. He made pancakes and showed me how to flip them in the air…" Shilo laughed at the memory. "And most of them ended up stuck on the ceiling when it was my turn to flip them."

"And then, that night, when it was so late that I couldn't keep my eyes open any more, he tucked me into bed and smoothed my hair away from my face and kissed me right on my forehead and whispered that he loved me."

Shilo paused and looked down at her hands, obviously uncomfortable. "That, uh, that was the last time I could remember him doing anything like that." she muttered. A moment later, she sniffed and surreptitiously swiped at her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Shilo said in a shaky voice. "We were having fun, and I just…" she let out another sniffle.

Graverobber braced both of his shaking arms on either side of himself and heaved. With a groan, he shifted himself into a more upright position.

Shilo was at his side immediately. "Graverobber! What're you-!"

Graverobber quickly wrapped his arms around Shilo before she could move away. Shilo stood frozen as Graverobber hugged her. She trembled like a leaf in his arms, but Graverobber didn't let her go. Slowly, hesitantly, Shilo's arms came up and lightly returned Graverobber's hug.

He really, sincerely tried to think of something to say. Something funny and light to help distract Sparrow from her sad memories; something to make her smile again. But honestly, he was just too exhausted to think of anything besides the truth. "You're my happiest memory, Sparrow." He finally muttered into her hair.

* * *

A/N: Yeah… I know… the chapter is late… Sorry 'bout that. I'll tell you what though; reviews always inspire me to writing greatness! The next chapter is mostly finished, so I promise the next chapter will come faster than this one. Hope the bit of fluffiness was worth the wait!


	18. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own the Catholic Church, Repo, the characters, or um… the bible thingy? O.o

A/N: Oh My GOOOOOD… So I totally lied in the last chapter. I thought I had the next chapter written, but I completely forgot that I skipped a SH perspective so I had to write that one first, and I got halfway through… and then November hit. And for those readers out there who don't know what November can signify- it's thirty days of nail biting, hair pulling, lip chewing STRESS FROM HELL as you try and attempt to write 50,000 words in thirty days. The name of this hell is NaNoWriMo; National Novel Writing Month. So while I have been writing this past month… it wasn't on this fic. -_-0 Sorry guys, my bad. Anyways, it's finished now. Forgive me and write me a nice review? Puh-leeeeeease?

* * *

Shilo stared at the empty bed in front of her. She didn't need to check to closet to see if Graverobber's clothes were still there. Just as she didn't need to check to see if his single boot was under the bed. He was gone. Again.

With a groan of frustration, Shilo grabbed the ends of her hair and tugged viciously. Graverobber was so… was so… Shilo let go of her hair and flopped backwards on the empty bed.

Graverobber was like a cat; she finally decided. One of those alley cats she sometimes saw outside. They sauntered around like they owned the place, didn't take an ounce of grief from anybody, and if they were particularly bored or hungry, they knew exactly which 'soft hearts' to hit up for a quick snack. Shilo sighed as she continued thinking about the metaphor. Not to mention, that just like a cat, trying to restrain Graverobber was more likely to get you scratched and bitten than any sort of gratitude. Of course…cats sometimes liked to snuggle too… Shilo's mind involuntarily drifted, and she remembered the feeling of warmth and safety she'd had when she'd been in his arms.

For a brief moment, Shilo's mind conjured up a picture of a lanky tabby with a torn up ear, lounging against the sidewalk, with a leash around its neck, tail flicking angrily. But Shilo's mind couldn't hold the picture for more than a moment before the Graverobber cat slipped out of the leash and sauntered down the sidewalk. Shilo was well aware that you couldn't keep a cat on a leash.

Shilo sat up with a frown. Graverobber couldn't cooperate with her, not even in her own mind. As Shilo sat up, something crinkled underneath her hand. She picked up the slip of paper and unfolded it.

'_Sparrow-_

_Had some things to do. See you in a couple of days. Thanks._

_-GR'_

The short note had several scribbled out parts, but none of it was decipherable to Shilo. Then she flipped the note over.

'_PS- I know you're probly pissed or worried or something. Don't be. I'll bring you a surprise to make up for it.'_

Shilo sighed, feeling her anger and annoyance churn in her stomach with the discovery of the note. Nature of the beast, she told herself. It's just the nature of the beast. Unfortunately, the mantra didn't make her feel any better.

* * *

Shilo hugged Gabriel to her chest as she indecisively stared at the church in front of her. As before, the black gate was open and the stained glass windows were bright with light from within the church.

The walk to the church had managed to cool some of Shilo's anger, and now she mostly felt foolish and apprehensive. Doubts started to slip into Shilo's mind as she stood on the sidewalk across the street from the church. She hugged Gabriel tighter to her chest and the puppy stretched his head up to lick under Shilo's chin.

This was a stupid plan, Shilo decided. She shouldn't go poking her nose into Graverobber's private business.

She was well aware that curiosity killed the cat… and in her case, it may have killed her father and her godmother. But Shilo suspected that if Graverobber ever found out what she was planning on doing, he'd be very-very angry.

Shilo pushed the thought away. Graverobber wasn't her keeper. He couldn't stop her from going places… or talking to people… or anything like that. She ignored the little voice that whispered that she was doing something wrong.

But she couldn't push away that incessant voice at the back of her head that asked so many questions that she was dying to get the answers to. She had so many questions- not just about Graverobber, but about religion in general. It seemed like the more Shilo researched religion, the more questions she had unanswered. It was frustrating to say the least.

The bells tolled and Shilo shivered. She watched as people seemed to simultaneously swarm the church and enter its large doors.

It would be silly, she thought to herself, to turn away from a source of information, simply because it had a connection to Graverobber's elusive past. With determination and steely resolve, Shilo flitted across the street and walked through the gates.

Unfortunately, her courage seemed to fail her as she stared at the large wooden doors.

What if this was a mistake? What if she wasn't supposed to be here? She wasn't a religious person. She didn't want to BE a religious person. She was just curious. Would the others be upset if they knew she wasn't here for serious reasons? What if they decided that she was being… what was the word…Blasphemous?

Shilo took a hesitant step back from the doorway, then another. Suddenly, a hand fell on Shilo's shoulder.

Shilo's throat immediately closed up and only the most determined bit of air managed to escape as she whirled around with a squeak.

"I thought I recognized that pup…" Father Michael said with an affable smile. "Gabriel, wasn't it?" he asked Shilo.

"I… um…" Shilo stuttered.

Father Michael frowned when he saw how Shilo was shaking and clutching Gabriel tightly. "My apologies," he said contritely. "I didn't mean to frighten you." He paused for a moment. "Are… are you here with Ga- your friend?" he asked in an oddly neutral voice.

Shilo mutely shook her head.

Father Michael sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Perhaps that is… for the best." He said with a weary sigh. He gave Shilo a tired smile. "Are you here for the sermon?" he asked.

"I…" Shilo trailed off. "If… it would not offend…?" Shilo said hesitantly.

Father Michael smiled and gently patted Shilo on the shoulder. "Nothing would make me happier, my child, than to have you sit in for our congregation's sermon tonight." He gently took Shilo's elbow and turned her around, leading her back to the door's she'd previously turned away from.

"I… um… I had questions…?" Shilo asked shyly.

Father Michael nodded thoughtfully as he led Shilo up the steps. "Well, it's natural for you to have questions, my child." He reassured her. "After my sermon tonight, perhaps you'd be willing to share a cup of hot cocoa with me and I'll do my best to answer whatever questions you might have?" He offered as he swung the doors open on silent hinges. He gave her a gallant smile as he held the door open for the hesitant girl with a light bow.

It was the smile that finally convinced Shilo to step across the doorway of the church. Despite the heavy feeling of reverence to the building, Father Michael's smile was the exact same as Graverobber's, and it gave Shilo a feeling of comfort and safety.

Shilo happily smiled back at the reverend as she stepped into the church.

* * *

Shilo sat on the edge of the pulpit, her legs pulled up to her chest. Though the sermon had ended several minutes ago, Shilo was still trying to process the intense feelings that it had awakened inside of her. Awe, wonderment, fascination, curiosity buzzed in her chest like a hive of bees. But at the same time uncertainty, fear, and concern sloshed around in her stomach like she'd had too much to drink. The simultaneous combination of the two was almost overwhelming to Shilo, so she simply sat where she was and tried to get herself back under control.

Across the room, Father Michael had a small group of people surrounding him. Some were congratulating him on his sermon, others were shaking his hand, and still others had a look on their face that Shilo couldn't recognize, but that Father Michael was familiar with; it was one that people had when they had a spiritual conflict.

Shilo watched his easy interaction with the people around him and felt a pang of envy. She would never be able to handle being confronted with so many people at once. She'd felt faint simply walking into the large room full of people right before the sermon had started. When Father Michael had introduced her before he'd started the sermon, Shilo had wanted to throw up as she'd had visions of the opera house. Luckily, Father Michael had started the sermon immediately afterwards and the people who'd been staring at her turned their attention back to Father Michael.

Gabriel distracted Shilo from her memories. He'd been quietly sitting on the floor during the hour and a half long sermon, but now he sat up and pawed at Shilo's leg, wanting to be picked up. She absently scooped him up from the floor and lowered her legs back to the floor so he could sit in her lap.

Shilo continued to quietly watch as Father Michael paid careful attention to each and every one of the people around him, systematically working his way through the crowd of people. Some he simply smiled and nodded at, some he started a brief conversation with, and some he answered a question for. Shilo noticed that Father Michael was careful to have some sort of physical contact with each and every person he spoke with, as well as focused eye contact.

It reminded her of Graverobber.

"Captivating ta' watch, innit?" A scratchy irish voice said from next to Shilo.

She jumped and whipped her head around, surprised to hear someone so close to her when the pulpit had been empty a moment before. She saw a gangly boy with red hair, wearing the same pale robes several others had been wearing during the sermon. He was slouched against the back of the bench, a short way away from Shilo. He was absently rubbing Gabriel's ears; who had decided to investigate the strange person while Shilo had been distracted.

The boy gave her a grin as he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "The Father, I mean." He clarified when Shilo hadn't said anything. He nodded his head over at Father Michael. "He's got this ability to just… pull people in, yanno?" the boy said conversationally.

"Uh…" Shilo replied.

"Don't know anybody else who can just pull people offa the streets and inta the church with just a couplea words." The boy continued blithely. "Guess that's why he decided to come and work at this church; people round here need someone ta pull em in." He leaned forward and extended a hand to Shilo. "M'name's Shamus by-the-way, but everybody just calls me Shame." He offered with another grin.

Shilo hesitantly extended a hand, recognizing the gesture. Shamus wrapped his hand around hers and gave it a couple of shakes before he let go.

He cocked his head and looked at Shilo. "This is the part where y'give me yer name." he said, fighting a smile that made the corners of his mouth twitch.

Shilo blushed and ducked her head. "Um… It's… Shilo." She said quietly, almost mumbling the last word.

"Nice ta meet'cha, Shilo." He said, pronouncing her name with a long O and a flip on the L, so it came out sounding like Shoy-Lo.

"Um… Thanks?" Shilo said hesitantly. She ducked her head again, and started winding her fingers in her lap. Shilo caught Shamus grinning out of the corner of her eye. Shilo got the opinion that Shamus smiled a lot.

"Yer a shy one, ain'cha?" Shamus said conversationally.

Shilo hunched her shoulders and pulled her legs up to her chest as she felt the burn of a blush in her cheeks. She made a noncommittal noise. She wished Father Michael would hurry up…

"Aach, I'm sorry." Shamus said a moment later. "Sometimes me mouth gets away from me. Me mam would've boxed me ears fer bein' so rude." Shamus said sheepishly.

Shilo noticed him rubbing the back of his head, and it made his red hair messily stick up all over the place.

"Anyways," Shamus forged on despite Shilo's silence. "Father Michael asked me ta show ya to his office, on account of his probably being tied up for a bit after his sermon." Shamus jerked a thumb over at the thinning crowd around Father Michael. "It usually takes him a bit ta get everyone settled fer the night."

"What's he doing?" Shilo asked suddenly.

"Who? Father Michael?" Shamus asked. He absently scratched behind his ear as he shrugged. "Lotsa times, he's just givin' people a listening ear, yanno? Makes people feel better ta have someone to unload upon." He explained. "Other times, people want his advice on how to handle some sorta problem of the spirit."

"Spirit?" Shilo asked, looking over at the boy in interest. "That's like… the soul?" she asked hesitantly when she realized that she was asking a virtual stranger questions. She hurriedly turned her head back around and stared out over the empty pulpits.

Shamus slumped back into the seat. "Well…" he said slowly. "Spirit can mean soul, but in this case, it's more like… like… when you've got a question of morals or ethics about a situation. Unsettled feelings about something. People want advice on how to handle a problem that might have consequences for their immortal soul." Shamus tried to explain.

Shilo bit her lip. "Like what?" she asked.

Shamus shrugged. "Lotsa stuff. Sometimes folk's kids fall into the wrong crowd, and they wanna know how they should be gettin'em back on the right path. Sometimes folks do somethin' wrong an' wanna know how'ta fix it. Sometimes they're worried 'bout someone else, and wanna know how they should help. Things like that."

"Why?" Shilo asked.

Shamus gave her a blank look. "Why what?" he asked.

"Why does he help all those people?" she asked. "Does he know all of them?"

Shamus laughed. "Because that's what a Father does!" he exclaimed with a good natured grin. "It's what he's spent his entire life to learn how to do. Helping others, even complete strangers."

"Oh…" Shilo said quietly.

"Here." Shamus said as he stood up. He offered Shilo a hand.

Shilo looked up at him in confusion.

"Father Michael's gonna be finished pretty soon." Shamus explained. "And I haven't even gotten you to his office yet." Shamus explained as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Shilo lowered her feet to the ground and scooped up a sleeping Gabriel from the seat next to her. She slowly took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. "Will you get in trouble?" she asked curiously. She'd always gotten in trouble when she hadn't followed her father's instructions.

Shamus snorted. "Not 'trouble' per say…" he said slowly. "But Father Michael's got this look when he's disappointed…" Shamus looked at Shilo over his shoulder as he led her out of the auditorium and scrunched his face into a humorous grimace. "It's enough ta make ya feel guilty for a week, it is." He said with a wink.

Shamus led Shilo down a hallway, stopping in front of a door with a frosted glass window. Shamus opened the door and stepped aside to let Shilo enter first.

She looked around curiously. In the corner there was a small desk and a tall stiff chair, a shorter padded chair was on the other side of the desk. On the far side was a fireplace, and in front of it were two very large and comfy looking mismatched arm chairs and a small dented table. On the same wall as the doorway, there was a large orange couch, faded and worn, with the stuffing sticking out of one picked-at arm.

Shamus grinned as he leaned against the doorway watching Shilo as she slowly walked around the room. "Not much ta' look at, izzit?" he remarked. "Father Michael says that…"

"Beauty lasts only a moment, but functionality lasts until eternity." A deeper voice interrupted Shamus.

Father Michael stepped into the doorway next to Shamus. He smiled a Shilo before he turned his attention to Shamus. "Thank-you for keeping my guest company, Shame." He said warmly as he clapped a hand on the gangly teen's shoulder. "I had a feeling you would be a good choice to help miss…" He trailed off thoughtfully.

"You know," Father Michael said as he turned to Shilo. "I don't think I ever got your name." He said with a small chuckle.

Shilo blushed and looked down at Gabriel in her arms. "Shilo…" she said quietly.

Father Michael beamed. "Shilo." He repeated. "It suits you." He complimented the shy girl. He turned back around to Shamus. "That reminds me, your mother needs you home shortly. Seems your brother Jaime is going to be late getting off work tonight." Father Michael told Shamus.

Shamus sighed. "And someone's got to watch the littles." He finished for Father Michael. He grinned and tossed his head, making his hair splay out even more. "Guess that's my cue to leave for the night." He remarked easily.

Father Michael nodded. "You're a good boy, Shamus." Father Michael remarked quietly.

Shamus snorted and rolled his eyes. "Aye to the first part, nay to the second, Father." Shamus commented obliquely.

Father Michael simply chuckled.

Shamus shot a grin to Shilo. "'S nice meetin' ya, Shilo." He said to the quiet girl. "Hope to see ya around more often. Too dull when it's just alter boys, yanno?" he raised an eyebrow and gave an outrageous wink.

Shilo couldn't help but smile at Shamus obvious flirting, so she ducked her head and looked at the ground to try and cover it up.

Father Michael laughed and ruffled the tall boy's hair. "Off with you!" he said once he'd stopped laughing. "Before I have to assign you penitent tasks for your attempt at corruption!"

"Aye, Father." Shamus said with a laugh. With one last wave at Shilo, he left the doorway and started down the hallways.

Father Michael slowly shook his head in amusement as he watched Shamus sprint down the hallway. "That boy…" he said with another chuckle. He turned around and looked at Shilo. "I believe I promised you hot cocoa, didn't I?" He said with a smile.

* * *

A/N#2: Hahaha, I'm so evil to leave you with this little cliffy, aren't I. Bwhahaha! To be honest, I've got two reasons for the break off here. Number one, I really didn't want to do another double chapter right now. Especially since the next one might be a double hitter. Number two, I really _really_ want to get to the next chapter. It's full of plot-bunny goodness and of course… Graverobber. : P

As always, please review and tell me what you think, what you like, what you DISLIKE, and what you might be expecting!

~~Ellaana


	19. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Blah blah, I don't own Repo the Genetic Opera… do I really have to repeat this every chapter? Seriously? It's like rubbing salt into the wound man! I'm a donkey on the edge~! … … …I don't own Shrek characters either… *sigh*

A/N: Okay! So I know that a couple of readers were a little disappointed on a lack of follow-up on the cuteness of chapter 19 and I just want to say… It was all Graverobber's fault! He's got intimacy issues man! He totally jumped ship! He's decided he's a mouse, not a man! He's- he's- he's- …okay, he's just impatient for this chapter here. It's a doozy! Next chapter I promise Shilo AND Graverobber will be in it- in the same room and talking to each other and everything!

By the way, to answer several reader's inquiries... I completed Nanowrimo two days early and with over three thousand words extra. First time for me, so I was pretty proud of myself.

Here's the extra chapter I promised you folks... Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

* * *

"Come little lambs," Graverobber crooned while twirling a glowing blue vial in his hand. Scalpel sluts and junkies surrounded him in a zombie-like mob. Grasping hands reached out towards the injection gun in his hands and low moans escaped from the bodies of people who'd already gotten a hit of the blue.

It always amazed Graverobber at how easily he fell into the familiar rhythm of the deal. It took five heartbeats for each transaction. One beat; damp crumpled bills and credit chits hit his palm. Two beats; the money was shoved into the nearest pocket. Three beats; he pulled out a familiar blue glowing vial. Four beats; he loaded the gun. Five beats; the gun was pressed against the skin and the spark flew, making the recipient jolt as the drug hit their system in an instantaneous hit. Then the next customer stepped forward and the process was repeated again and again.

It was mindless work for the dealer, and he put all his concentration into the task. Not because he took pride in his work, but because he was very good at ignoring the thoughts swirling in his head, if he did say so himself. Yup. This was the life; making money, playing the crowd… Definitely NOT thinking thoughts about Shilo and her uncomfortable ability to make him remember things about his past that he didn't want to remember.

He wasn't Gabriel; he was The Graverobber. Not a preacher's son; a drug dealer. Not an older brother; a man without a past. And tonight, for these pathetic excuses of humanity, he was salvation and damnation all rolled in one.

Eventually, the crowd died down- most of the customers had slipped away to find a back-alley surgeon offering the latest surgery for a discounted price. And now there were only a couple of people left; blank-eyed bottom-feeders that were standing in dark corners, or the occasional junkie that was sprawled on the dirty ground or nodded out on a doorstep while they reveled in their latest fix.

Well aware that it was time to start the next act of his little play, Graverobber bowed his head and grinned- seemingly to himself- as he checked his pockets. "Ah," he murmured quietly into the silent alley. "The last vial." He had to use a careful balance of a quiet voice while projecting out enough that it penetrated those dark corners and reached the ears of hopeful listeners. "Whatever shall I do..." he mused thoughtfully.

He slanted a look at the few loitering people who kept to the shadows, fighting the smirk that threatened to emerge. He was well aware that this was the time of the night when the remaining stragglers were either broke... or... and really, they were his favorite type of customer... they were the timid junkie virgins who were hesitant to take that final step into the dark underworld.

"Just a simple spark..." Graverobber absently sang into the darkness. He quietly loaded the gun and twirled it around a finger. "It'll change your life... Rest assured..." He hummed a forgotten melody.

"First taste is free..." he offered slyly to one of the patches of darkness.

Wide-eyed faces started to slowly but surely drift out of the darkness. Like skittish dogs, they approached Graverobber's slouching figure from indirect angles- hesitant to fully face him or directly approach him. As they gravitated around, the dealer let a small smirk stretch across his face as he slumped against the alley wall in the most non-threatening pose he could muster. He was perfectly content to wait for them to come to him.

Suddenly, a tall figure appeared at the mouth of the alley. Their shadow stretched down the alley and cut an ominous path that pointed straight to Graverobber's slouching figure. At the first splash of puddle from the figure's purposeful stride, the remaining people in the alley suddenly scattered, like a school of fish startled by the presence of a shark, and disappeared into the waiting darkness, vanishing from view within a span of seconds.

He grimaced in disappointment over the lost business. And newbies were so easy to overcharge... He shoved the zydrate gun into one of his coat's deeper pockets and quickly crossed his arms. As the figure continued to approach, he quickly changed the grimace on his face into a stale smirk. There was always a chance to make up the lost business after all.

"Are you lost?" he asked in a decidedly cold voice.

"Used to be, but not anymore." The figure spoke in a low oddly familiar voice.

"You got business around here?" Graverobber gruffly asked, squinting at the figure. The lamppost from just beyond the alley was directly behind the figure and made it difficult for him to make out a face.

"Wanted to make a deal with you." The voice replied ambiguously.

It took a moment, but he finally recognized the voice. With the recognition Graverobber felt like he was back on an even playing field and he instantly became less defensive. In fact, the knowledge of the identity of the person that had come into his back alley made him chuckle in amusement.

"Staaaaar…" He drawled out playfully. He easily hopped up to perch on the edge of a closed trash can behind him. He stretched his arms up above his head and groaned in appreciation as his back popped several times.

Star's shadowed figure was still and silent and it was all the confirmation he needed to know that he'd been correct in his guesswork.

However… while he was vastly amused at how dramatic the woman's entrance had been, he was also intensely curious as to why she'd appeared here- in his alley- of all places. From what he remembered, she didn't have anything to do with his kind of business. He decided to prod her a little; it was always the little things that gave people away.

"Decided to fall of the wagon?" He asked the woman with a grin. "Tell you what- I'll give you a discount." he offered in his most magnanimous voice, "-For old time's sake."

The figure finally moved, shifting on her feet a little, and Graverobber silently congratulated himself in finally getting a reaction from the woman.

"You know I quit that shit a long time ago." Star said with a scornful scoff. "So you just keep your poison in your pockets, Graves." And with those words, the woman stepped forward, coming out from in front of the streetlight's glaring effect.

Graverobber used the opportunity to take a look at the stripper from Red's bar. He scanned her up and down, taking his time with his examination. Unlike her usual appearance that involved see-through plastic and excessive amounts of pancaked makeup and glitter, tonight Star was dressed like a normal girl; something that was vaguely disconcerting for Graverobber though he'd be hard pressed to explain exactly WHY it was disconcerting.

"Not to your approval?" The stripper asked with an arched eyebrow. She crossed her arms and raised her chin, as if daring him to make a comment about her plain sweater and ankle length gypsy skirt.

But he simply shrugged in reply. "I thought your tat was fully colored." He admitted offhand, referring to the large blue star that usually dominated half her face.

Her hand drifted up and touched the faint blue lines that centered over her left eye. A moment later she dropped her hand and shrugged.

Though she was obviously trying to hide it, Graverobber could tell she was nervous. He noted how her fingers faintly shook as she pulled a cigarette case out of her pocket and put a trembling cigarette to her lips.

"Was going to." she admitted as she searched her pockets for a lighter. "But the outline alone hurt like a son of a bitch and I was only three months out from my DT. Decided I didn't want to take the chance of falling off the wagon."

"Detox is always a bitch." Graverobber remarked blandly. Star jerked her head in agreement.

A moment later she huffed in annoyance as she patted her pockets, unable to find her lighter. She jumped when a zippo sparked to life in front of her. The flame threw dancing shadows throughout the dark alley that Star eyed tensely.

Graverobber simply offered her the flame and waited patiently for her to either accept or decline. Her jaw clenched, but she obligingly leaned forward. Soon, the cigarette was lit with a bright red cherry at the tip. She inhaled deeply on the cigarette and let it out with a sigh. Her shoulders sagged and she slanted a sideways glance at Graverobber before she settled on examining the cigarette in her hand.

"So..." he drawled slowly as he snapped the zippo closed and tucked it into a pocket. "Don't want my product..." he mused out loud, "That must mean that you're here for personal reasons."

There was a slight tensing of Star's shoulders, but she was silent as she simply took another drag on her cigarette.

"I can't imagine that I'm so impressive in the sack- or that you don't get enough business- that you've decided to hit me up for a night of hedonism..." He trailed off, waiting for the blanks to be filled in.

The stripper took one last inhale on her cigarette before she spoke. "You and me, we've known each other for a long time, right? We go back a ways?" she asked without looking up.

Graverobber shrugged and started twirling a coin between his fingers. "I suppose we do. Most of my customers are dead by this point." he observed. Because he was still watching Star's reactions, he noticed when she flinched at his statement.

The reaction to his flippant statement intrigued Graverobber, and as an old dead poet once said; 'Curiouser and Curiouser'.

Star folded her arms around her sides and seemed to hunch around herself before she quietly asked, "Are we on good terms?"

The question made him sit up and slide off the garbage can so he could stand in front of the woman. "Good enough terms for what, Star?" he asked suspiciously.

She ran a hand through her short electric blue hair before she seemed to pull herself together. Her eyes met his and Graverobber recognized the look in her eyes. It was the same steel resolve that he's seen several years ago, in an alley very similar to this one. She'd had that look in her eyes when she'd decided to quit taking Z and join a rehab program.

"I might need to hide something of interest from GeneCo." she said in a breathless tumble. "And you're the only one I know that wouldn't take the information and make bank with it."

Graverobber blinked once, then twice, not sure if he'd heard properly. The momentary lapse of concentration made his coin fumble on the back of his fingers and he barely managed to catch the coin before it fell onto the dirty pavement.

And Star was still standing before him, her chin tilted at that stubborn angle and her narrowed eyes searching his for...something.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, almost hiding in his hairline. That... was not what he was expecting. "What?" he finally asked in confusion.

It was as though Graverobber's reaction made Star lose her nerve. Her eyes looked away and her body language seemed to close down on itself, leaving Graverobber unable to read her anymore.

She took a step back and shook her head. "Never mind..." she said quietly. "I shouldn't have come here..." she took another backwards step.

Frowning, Graverobber caught her arm before she took another step. "Wait a sec," he said quickly. Determination laced his tone. "Now you've got my interest and I want to hear the rest."

"Let me go." Star said in a tight voice. The arm that he held onto was almost vibrating with tension.

Sensing that the woman was very close to simply bolting, he quickly dropped her arm, but took a step forward. "Star, what the hell would you need to hide from GeneCo?" he asked with quiet intensity.

The clink of a bottle echoed down the alley.

The noise reminded Graverobber that their conversation was distinctly not private and any of his customers would happily sell them out for the right amount of monetary incentive.

So when Star opened her mouth to speak, he immediately put a hand over her mouth before she could say a word. He tilted her head up until she reluctantly met his eyes. He stared at her and then very deliberately shook his head twice, hoping that she understood his silent message to stay silent. He pulled his hand away from her mouth and she didn't say a word, though she glared at him with a suspicious look in her eyes.

He stepped closer to her, until their bodies were almost touching. He leaned down until his mouth was almost touching her ear. "This is a bad place to have a sensitive conversation." he murmured into her ear at barely audible levels. "I'm not saying I'll help you- but I'm curious enough that I'm willing to hear you out." he quickly and quietly explained.

Then he took a step back. He laughed out loudly. "Tell you what, babe." He said projecting his voice out. "Since I like those pretty blue eyes of yours, I'll take you somewhere private where we can do a little... negotiating." He threw heavy innuendo on his words. "Maybe if you negotiate well enough, we could come to a deal."

Star's eyes narrowed, but she didn't knock his arm away when he threw it over her shoulder, and other than her stiff posture, she didn't resist when he pulled her in close to his side and started steering her towards the mouth of the alley.

* * *

Fifteen minutes and a hitched ride from a dump truck later, Graverobber and Star were sitting in a corner booth at an all night diner both with a cup of coffee in their hands.

"Well?" he prompted her with a quirked eyebrow. "Start explaining." He waited expectantly.

Star took a sip of the coffee and glanced around the small diner. "This wasn't what I was expecting." She admitted. Her eyes darted around, taking in the clean floors and tables, the various photographs and the kitschy decorations that decorated the walls and shelves, and the single waitress in an extremely dated checkered uniform. She raised an eyebrow at Graverobber, making her meaning clear; she didn't expect someone like Graverobber to patronize such a hokey establishment.

Graverobber shrugged. "I like their peach cobbler." he said casually. Which he did. He had no intention of telling her that he liked coming to the small diner because the workers didn't bother to give him a second glance and he never had to worry about running into any of his customers while he had a quiet cup of coffee.

Speaking of coffee… He took a scalding sip of the black brew, enjoying the burn as it warmed his stomach. Then he pinned the silent Star with a serious look. "Now stop avoiding the question." He ordered her.

She rubbed the back of her neck. "I had this all planned out, you know." she muttered. "I was going to wait for you outside the alley and snag you when you left. I was gonna make you a deal, you were gonna decline it, and we were going to negotiate a fee for you to hide away my-" her words cut off abruptly.

"Your...?" Graverobber asked, trailing off. He gestured with his hand for her to finish her sentence. He was almost dying with curiosity by this point. "Give me a pronoun here and we can have a full sentence, Star." he drawled.

Her finger nudged the spoon on the table in front of her and she didn't make eye contact with him. "It's Scotty." she breathed out in a barely audible whisper.

Before he could ask who the hell 'Scotty' was, Star added, "My brother."

Suddenly Graverobber had a face to associate with the name; thin scrawny kid with a bright orange Mohawk. Tattoos had covered his skin from his neck down to his knuckles.

Last time he'd seen the kid had been a couple of weeks after Star had decided to kick her drug habit. Mostly, Graverobber remembered the angry look on the kid's face as he'd grabbed Graverobber by the lapels of his coat and attempted to slam him into an alley wall, despite the fact that Graverobber was double the kid's size. The kid had informed him in a hard voice that he wouldn't be selling Star anymore Z if Graverobber knew what was good for him. Graverobber had laughed in the kid's face, secretly impressed by the kid's guts. However, he had failed to see the pair of brass knuckles on the kid's hand, and ended up with a dislocated jaw in return for his amusement.

"That little punk who sucker punched me?" Graverobber asked in clarification as he absently rubbed his jaw in remembrance.

Star gave a tiny nod and continued to scrutinize her cup of coffee.

He scoffed and leaned back against the cracked vinyl seat. "And what on earth did your poor innocent brother do to get in trouble with GeneCo?" he asked sarcastically.

But Star just shook her head. "He didn't do anything. It was me." she explained in a voice heavy with weariness. "He was born with a bad heart. While he was growing up, he did okay- had to avoid heavy exercise and stress- but it was workable, you know? Our mom died when I turned seventeen- got caught in the middle of a shootout one morning- so it was just him and me. But when he turned fifteen, he got into a wreck on his cycle... Something nicked the aortic valve and his heart couldn't take the stress... he was going to die without a new heart."

She gave a deep sigh and she glanced up at Graverobber, momentarily meeting his eyes. "You know how it goes, Graverobber... it's all about the supply and demand… My brother needed a heart, Gene Co had one available... and I started working for them to pay it off."

She took a deep drink from the coffee in her hands. With forced lightness, she continued to explain. "It was okay for a while. It was good money- despite what they were taking off the top for the payment plans. And I finally had enough to move us out of the slums and into a safer neighborhood." She paused, her fingers trailing around the rim of the coffee cup.

"But working for the Largos is like working for the devil... I saw so many horrible things…" She shuddered.

"And one day I couldn't take the stress. One of the other girls showed me how Z could just… take the edge off..." she trailed off.

"And then you were hooked." Graverobber said knowingly when Star had been quiet for a minute.

She nodded. "When one of those Largo kids went and killed one of the other girls right in front of me, I couldn't take it anymore. I split; decided the job was too dangerous for me, and left." She gave a bitter laugh. "But I still had to make the payments- and on top of that, I had to manage my damn addiction. You met me about four months after I'd left, when I was hooking on the streets to make enough to score a hit."

"And your dear brother?" Graverobber asked, this time with only a hint of sarcasm leaking into his words, but Star was too distracted to notice his tone.

"He was working two jobs to make the heart payments while I was 'looking for new work'. Worked in a garage during the day, fixing bikes. Worked in a tat shop at night." She answered absently. She blinked and looked up at Graverobber, as though suddenly realizing that he was there with her. She quickly looked away and took a large drink from her coffee cup.

"Sounds like you two were doing okay." he pointed out, something odd twisted in his chest, but he figured that the strong coffee was just burning holes in his esophagus.

She faltered. "Yeah well… you... you know the rest." she said falteringly and took another drink of coffee.

Her reaction made Graverobber's eyebrows rise in surprise. He suddenly felt discomforted with the intimacy of the conversation. He wasn't some goody-goody-feely type. He needed to re-establish a distance to the conversation.

He snorted and made his words deliberately callous. "You mean the part where you were a regular customer for over a year before I found you crying in the back of an alley while you rode the high?" he asked bluntly.

Star looked away. "Yeah. That." she said shortly as she sat her cup down with a thump.

"You going all shy on me, Star?" he asked, making his lips twitch with a faint smirk as he pretended to be secretly amused by the conversation.

With a frown, she retorted, "Who's the idiot dealer who goes and helps his cash cows get clean?" Her tone was sharp and defensive.

Feeling that the professional distance had once again been properly established, Graverobber easily waved the comment away. "I didn't do anything more than get you in front of a decent Detox Clinic, rather than those rat traps that GeneCo fronts. You did all the work yourself." Graverobber paused as soon as the words had come out of his mouth. What the fuck? What happened to a professional distance?

He looked at the hunching Star and for a moment, he could swear that he was looking at Shilo, not Star. He shook his head, trying to dispel the image. But it was no good. The comparison had been made and now he was trying and failing to resist the vague notion that he should pull Star out of her self-imposed funk.

He awkwardly cleared his throat. "Besides," he added as he took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. "I knew you'd be bad news for my business." he explained lightly as he looked at Star's frowning visage out of the corner of his eye. "I knew someone was gonna come looking for you, and then I was gonna have a lot of the wrong types of eyes on me." He twirled his hand in embellishment. "Getting you out was to keep the rest of my entrepreneurship safe." He added as a last ditch effort to try and recover a sense of distance from the conversation.

The corner of Star's mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. "Of course, Graverobber." She said in a placating tone.

He shrugged, leaning back against the vinyl behind him. "And don't think that my finding you at Red's was anything more than pure coincidence." he warned her.

Because, Graverobber sheepishly thought to himself, it really was. He hadn't thought about that sad crying addict in over a year when he'd vaguely recognized the new girl working the tables at Red's. It wasn't until he'd paid for lap dance that he'd found out exactly who she was.

The little amusement in Star's eyes slipped away when Red's was mentioned.

"She tossed me out." Star said dully.

"Red?" he asked in clarification.

She nodded. "She caught me holding back a part of the kickbacks I was supposed to be giving her from the tips and she cleaned me out and booted me."

He sighed. "Let me guess; the money she took was to make the next payment." He guessed with sharp accuracy.

"GeneCo kept increasing the payment amount. Called it 'economic inflation'. It was getting harder and harder to make the payments even with me and Scotty throwing every penny we had into it. Then Red kept making her kickbacks larger and larger..." Star's voice trailed off.

With sudden realization at where this conversation was leading- and why Star kept reminding him of a certain little bird- He groaned and thumped his head on the table. He wove his fingers into his hair and pulled in frustration. He knew why Star's brother needed to be hidden from Gene Co. "You want me to hide your brother from the Repomen?" he asked in a tight voice muffled by the tabletop.

There was a silence and Graverobber angled his head so he could look up at Star from the corner of his eye. She met his eyes and hesitantly nodded.

"Christ." he sighed into the table top.

* * *

A/N#2: Okay, be honest… was this worth the Graverobberlessness in the last chapter? …Yes, I'm aware that 'Graverobberlessness' isn't really a word. I bet you're all jealous you didn't come up with it first. : P Well, neither did I. Pupten gets a cookie as payment for her word. ^_^

Reviews = Love!


	20. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: My imaginary friend wants to tell you that I am out of candy… Which I am. However! My imaginary friend was SUPPOSED to tell you that I don't own Repo or the characters depicted within. But yeah, I don't have any candy either.

A/N: So this chapter was absolutely horrible and I'd rewritten it like, a thousand and one times and I still hated it and I considered scrapping the entire thing and just doing something else because I hated it so much. I thought the dialogue was stilted and the conversation with Father Michael was annoyingly awkward- and not awkward like I wanted it to be awkward, just… awkward and stilted and _wrong!_

And then a friend of mine suggested that I do a little trick to pinpoint what the problem was- and it worked! She totally saved my chapter! So after a couple of hours of furious editing later, I present to you the finished product! Enjoy!

* * *

"...We ate pieces of a dead mythological figure?" Shilo asked with a horrified look on her face.

Father Michael chuckled. "No, no, my child. The wafers and red wine _represent_ the flesh and blood of Jesus Christ. The practice is used to help solidify the bond between the congregation and our Lord and Savior."

"He's a representation of an ideological figure." She argued with a confused look on her face. "How can you solidify a bond between a bunch of strangers and a figurehead that doesn't exist?"

The Father simply took a sip from his mug. "Do you have any defining proof that He doesn't exist?" he asked lightly.

She made a face. "You can't prove a negative, Father Michael." She said in a slightly lecturing tone. Then she looked thoughtful for a moment. "Although… I suppose if you consider the theological aspect from a psychological point of view, the 'bond' is a representation of tying the people to a patriarchal figurehead using a physical sample to mimic a familial link." She beamed at the dumbfounded priest, looking pleased that she'd found a logical explanation for a seemingly irrational practice. "It's really a brilliant concept."

The Father winced and a pained expression briefly crossed his face. "I don't think you're considering this from a proper point of view, Ms. Wallace. Religion is about spiritual fulfillment, not about psychological manipulation." he tried to explain.

"Spiritual fulfillment?" Shilo asked with a frown.

He nodded, leaning forward, his eyes sparkled with barely contained passion. "Haven't you ever felt that there was something important missing from your life? Something intangible that you couldn't pinpoint?"

"Um…" she hesitated. "You mean, like my mother?" she asked naively.

Father Michael blinked. "Your… mother?" he asked in confusion.

Shilo nodded, playing with the mug in her hands. "She… she um… died when I was born." She said quietly. She looked up at him, her face open and earnest. "Is that what you meant about something being missed?"

She was confused when instead of answering her question and continuing the theological discussion, the Father set his mug aside on his desk and leaned forward, taking one of Shilo's hands in his own. "My condolences for your loss, my child." He said in his most comforting voice.

"Uh," She stuttered. She was flustered from being touched, and didn't quite understand the sudden change in the Father's demeanor. "I... It's not- It was a long time ago."

She quietly tried to pull her hand out of his grasp. "I don't even remember her, not really." she said in an awkward dismissive tone, trying to end the unsettling subject.

"It must have been terribly hard for your family." The Father said sympathetically as he released Shilo's hand.

"It's been…" She paused as an unexpected lump formed in her throat. "It _was_… just me and my dad." Her voice was very quiet on the last word, almost whispered.

"You lost your father as well?" Father Michael asked with concern obvious on his features.

Uncomfortable with both the focused scrutiny as well as the topic of discussion, Shilo hunched into her shoulders a bit, twisting her hands. "It happened last year…" she reluctantly supplied.

"I'm sure your friends and family were a source of great comfort during that difficult time." The Father remarked with an odd look of focus on his face as he searched for something in Shilo's face.

Wanting to avoid his gaze, Shilo nervously picked at a loose thread on the arm of the chair she was sitting on. She shifted from one side to the other, not sure what to say or what to do.

"Surely you weren't all alone…?" Father Michael insisted. His forehead creased with lines of worry.

Something in his tone made Shilo realize that she wasn't answering his questions correctly. She felt more and more like she was floundering in a situation that she didn't understand.

"No," she blurted. "I wasn't- I mean- I've had…" With a jolt, Shilo realized that she was on the verge of saying Graverobber's name. She immediately clamped her lips shut.

She suddenly found it difficult to meet the Father's piercing gaze, and every time she started to look at his face, she had to look away. She'd promised herself that she wasn't going to use this visit to pry into Graverobber's past. And she wouldn't. This was about getting her questions about religion answered, she told herself firmly.

"What were you saying about Spirituality?" She finally asked in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

Dawning comprehension flitted across Father Michael's face. "Shilo…" he said slowly, trying to catch the girl's avoidant eyes. "…Did you meet my brother after your father died?"

Her eyes snapped up when the priest had used her name. She was completely shocked at how well the priest had pinpointed the exact thing that she'd wanted to avoid. Now her eyes were locked with his and there was something about his gaze that compelled Shilo to answer his question.

"I- I…" she stuttered helplessly. The words spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Not exactly… I met him before it happened…"

As soon as she'd spoken the words, she'd winced and immediately wished that she could reel the words back into her mouth. She watched the man in front of her with a crawling feeling of dismay in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

Father Michael saw Shilo's reaction and immediately leapt to the wrong conclusion; that something about his brother was the reason for the girl's sudden upset. In all his years of being a Father and working with the people in his congregation, he'd seen many terrible things. Now he thought he recognized the look of fear and defeat in the eyes of the young girl that sat across from him.

His heart went out to the poor girl and he shook his head, trying to deny the idea that his brother could have caused such hurt to such an innocent girl. "Oh you poor child…" he sadly murmured to himself.

* * *

By sheer coincidence, Shilo caught the barely audible words that the priest had murmured.

"Huh?" she asked; confusion evident in her voice. She didn't understand why there had been such pity to the Father's tone.

"Child," Father Michael said, and Shilo absently noticed that it was the same formal tone he'd used when he'd been giving his sermon earlier that evening. "I understand that my brother has a compelling personality; when he wants to be, he can be very charming. But my brother is…" The Father took a deep breath and his face showed a flash of pain before he continued speaking. "He's… morally corrupt. I worry about your safety in his company."

A look of complete and utter shock filled Shilo's face.

"What?" she asked, completely bewildered at how the conversation gotten so turned around.

Steely eyes met confused eyes as the Father sharply asked, "How long has my brother been taking advantage of you?"

The air was full of a heavy uncomfortable silence. All Shilo could do was gape at the man, her mouth opening and closing in silence. Finally, she managed to croak, "Taking… advantage…?" before her voice suddenly failed her once again. Something tight seemed to be constricting her chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Why would he think that Graverobber…?

She shook her head vigorously, desperately hoping that the man could see the truth in her eyes; Graverobber wasn't dangerous- he wasn't hurting her! Graverobber wouldn't do that! He helped her! He was her friend!

Shilo desperately wished her mouth would work so she could explain to Father Michael exactly how wrong he was about Graverobber…

But Father Michael seemed to miss the silent message in her eyes, because he simply sat forward in his chair with an earnest look on his face as he promised, "Whatever my brother is using you for, I promise that I can help you out of it."

Her heart beat faster as she instinctively pushed herself into the chair, trying to get away from the Father's overwhelming intensity. Why was he saying these things? Why would he accuse Graverobber like that?

"Did he promise to take care of you, Shilo? Is that why you stay with him?" Father Michael persisted, unaware of how uncomfortable he was making Shilo.

There was a sick feeling in Shilo's stomach. Why did this seem so familiar? This feeling of intensity?

She blinked and instead of Father Michael sitting across from her, it was of Rotti Largo, leaning towards her, whispering that he'd make everything better, that he'd set her free… Then the vision morphed and it was her father with hard eyes and a cold voice that told her that she had to stay inside, that he had to keep her safe… The sick feeling crawled up her stomach and into her throat.

No! Never again! A sharp feeling pricked Shilo's chest and stabbed directly through the sick feeling that had been crawling around inside of her. She wasn't that weak girl anymore! She wouldn't let anybody manipulate her around like that ever again!

It was impossible to say who was more surprised, Shilo or Father Michael, when she abruptly leapt to her feet. The previously forgotten mug of hot cocoa fell to the floor with a heavy crack, splashing the floor with chocolately fluid, but Shilo ignored it. That sharp warm feeling in her chest lingered, and it seemed to send a flood of strength throughout her limbs. It even managed to make her vocal cords work again.

"Stop it!" She demanded in a breathless voice. It was so hard to breathe…! But she desperately grasped at that sharp feeling and quickly spoke, needing to try and fix the situation.

"Graverobber isn't like that! He's not…" Shilo shook her head, her head was swimming and her limbs were trembling. That warm feeling of strength was dissipating as quickly as it had come. She gave one last try at trying to clear Graverobber's good name before the strength left her. "He's a good person!" She weakly exclaimed, unable to articulate what she knew about Graverobber.

Father Michael also stood up, and concern flashed across his face.

It was such a familiar expression to Shilo, who'd seen it on Graverobber's face on more than one occasion, and for a moment, she felt guilty for her reaction. She had to forcibly remind herself that this man was not Graverobber; no matter how familiar his face might be. And while she knew she could trust Graverobber, she didn't know Father Michael; not really. She refused to be manipulated again. She refused to endanger someone close to her ever again.

"Shilo? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you." Father Michael said as he reached out towards her.

She jerked backwards, out of reach. Her heart was pounding and every breath seemed harder and harder to take in. She stumbled as she bumped into the armchair behind her, but she whirled around it, feeling better to place something physical between her and the priest.

Shilo wanted to cry. She wanted so desperately to trust this man that resembled Graverobber so much…

"Shilo?" Father Michael asked.

But there was no way in hell that she would ever do anything that might endanger Graverobber. And this man had already shown that he could definitely be a danger to her friend.

"I- I don't want to talk about Graverobber." she said, trying to keep her voice from becoming too panicked sounding. She swallowed. "I think I want to leave."

Her hands trembled as she grasped the back of the chair in a white knuckled grip. From the corner of her eyes, she saw her puppy, Gabriel, sleeping in front of the fire. Without taking her eyes off of the Father, she leaned down and scooped the puppy up; hugging him tightly to her chest.

"Please." she whispered when the silence seemed to stretch on too long.

A look of hurt flashed across the priest's face. And Shilo had to push away the feeling of guilt once again.

"Of course you can leave." He said softly. He stepped back and gestured to the open door behind him.

She let out a sigh of relief, the air whooshing out of her all at once. She indecisively looked between the doorway and Father Michael.

"I would never hold someone against their will." he said quietly, trying to reassure the spooked girl. "It would be against everything I believe in." The amount of sincerity in the priest's tone is what finally convinced Shilo that she wasn't in danger. But she still wanted to leave. She needed to get away and try and sort out all the conflicting thoughts in her head.

"I…" She swallowed and her shoulders dropped a fraction of an inch. She took a hesitant step towards the door. "I need to go…" she whispered.

Father Michael didn't move, but his sad eyes lingered on Shilo's form. She guiltily flinched because of the eerily familiar gaze, but she didn't let the look keep her from leaving.

She kept an eye on the Father as she slid along the edges of the room trying to avoid him as much as possible. Her hand fumbled along the wall behind her as she moved and when she touched the edge of the doorjamb she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Shilo," Father Michael spoke up before she could leave. He still hadn't moved, except to pivot to watch her progress around the edges of the room.

She whirled around, still feeling nervous and guilty as she stared at the Father.

"I've made you uncomfortable, and you may not believe me, but I'm very sorry, Shilo. I hope you'll come back to the church again. And my door is always open if you wish to speak again." he told her with an earnest expression on his face.

For a moment, Shilo simply stared at the man, feeling torn in two directions and too confused by all the conflicting thoughts whirling around inside her head. But he simply watched her and waited for her to make a decision.

Finally, she gave a shaky nod. And before the Father could do anything else that might confuse her, she spun around and quickly left, disappearing into the dark hallways of the church.

* * *

Father Michael stared at the empty doorway before he sighed and crumpled into the chair behind him. He buried his face in his hands as he felt the defeat sweep through him.

He'd failed.

Even worse, he may have chased away that poor girl simply because he'd been so determined to save her. He was well aware of what his brother had become since their sister's death; he would be surprised if there was a single sin that his brother had not committed. Though every night he prayed for forgiveness for his part in chasing his brother from the light, Michael knew that short of a miracle, nothing could save his brother's damned soul. But he wished- oh how he wished! And he prayed.

When he'd first met the girl in front of the church, it was as though there had been a voice that had spoken to him; that had told him that this was a girl he could help.

At first, he hadn't understood why he'd felt drawn to the girl. But as soon as he saw her too-big eyes and her waif-like appearance, he had recognized the lost look behind her eyes. While talking with her, he'd realized exactly how lost she was. There had been something… not quite right with her behavior. It was then that he'd understood his purpose; she was a lost sheep, and he was the shepherd who needed to guide her back into the flock.

And then Gabriel had appeared; and like a metaphorical devil, he'd appeared out of the darkness and snatched the lost girl away.

Michael remembered the surprise and pain from the confrontation. He'd tried so desperately hard to bring his brother back into the light. To show him that forgiveness and repentance wasn't out of his reach… And Gabriel had spurned his offering with such anger and hate in his eyes…

His hands briefly clenched in his hair, the slight pain of his scalp doing nothing to ease the pain in his soul. He'd failed so many times…

With a heavy heart, and an even heavier soul, Father Michael wearily stood up and shuffled out of his office. He pulled his rosary from under his collar as he walked. He knew that he wouldn't be getting much sleep- tonight he would sit and pray for enlightenment on how he could help one Shilo Wallace. The very least he could do was try and limit the damage and corruption spread by his brother.

* * *

Shilo walked down the street on shaky legs, still clutching Gabriel to her chest. She felt overwhelmed with the different conflicting feelings and impressions she'd gotten from her excursion.

She thought about the sermon, and she briefly smiled as she remembered the upheaval of emotions she'd experienced. It'd been… amazing. She couldn't think of any other word to express it. There had been passion and conviction and honesty in the words that Father Michael had spoken during the ceremony. With so many people sitting in the room, listening and feeling and experiencing it together… it had almost overwhelmed Shilo. It'd been like the first time she'd heard an opera aria, or the first time she'd caught a moonbeetle. Just… amazing.

And then she'd met that boy- Shamus. If it hadn't been for him, she may have simply bolted before she'd even talked with the Father. She'd been so nervous and worried that she'd been too far out of her depth, and he'd made her feel like she was completely normal. It'd been nice, Shilo realized, to have someone treat her like she was normal. Not as some poor little sick shut in girl, but just a girl doing something new.

Gabriel wiggled in Shilo's arms, and she finally set him down so he could walk on his own.

With a brief frown, she remembered the discussion with Father Michael. The first half of the conversation had been nice. She remembered that she'd felt at ease around the Father, and he'd been very understanding about answering her questions- no matter how odd or uncomprehending she'd been.

In fact, she'd actually been having a good time up to the point where the Father had starting asking her questions; questions about her mom, and her family… and Graverobber.

Shilo bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth as she thought about the upsetting things he'd been saying about Graverobber. Abruptly, she shook her head, forcibly dispelling the upsetting thoughts. Father Michael obviously didn't know Graverobber.

But her stomach give an uncomfortable flip as she remembered the confrontation she'd witnessed between Graverobber and Father Michael. She couldn't remember EVER seeing Graverobber so angry before, and afterwards… She shuddered as she remembered the comatose Graverobber on her bedroom floor. She never wanted to see Graverobber like that again.

Father Michael just didn't know what he was talking about, she decided firmly. He just didn't.

* * *

Several hours later, Shilo groaned as she tiredly pushed the blankets off herself. Gabriel was scratching at the closed bedroom door and whining. "Okay, okay…" she mumbled as she shuffled to the door. "Let's go outside to go potty…" she sleepily muttered to the puppy at her feet.

She opened the bedroom door and barely noticed as Gabriel dashed down the hallway, yipping in obvious happiness. She rubbed her eyes as she stumbled down the hallway after her puppy. She appreciated Gabriel's company, don't get her wrong, but sometimes a puppy was really inconvenient…

It wasn't until she was halfway down the stairs that she heard the persistent knocking coming from the front door. "What…?" she asked herself as she stared at her front door in shock. A quick glance at the clock over the foyer showed that it was a little past two in the morning. Who would be knocking at her door so late at night?

Shilo glanced at the door uneasily. Then she noticed Gabriel as he pranced in front of the door, happily yipping and wagging his tail. She quickly crouched on the staircase, as though hiding from whoever might be on the other side of the door. "Gabriel!" she whispered loudly, trying to get the puppy's attention. "Gabriel, come here!"

But the puppy ignored her.

"Sparrow! Open up! It's fucking cold out here!" Graverobber's familiar voice shouted from the other side of the door.

And just like that, the uneasy feeling vanished. With a sigh of relief, Shilo made her way down the stairs and threw open the door.

"Graverobber, what are you-" She started to say. She halted when she realized that there were three people on her porch, instead of the one that she'd been expecting. She took a startled step backwards even as Gabriel lunged forward and happily pawed at Graverobber's legs.

"Sparrow, get the mutt back inside and get out of the way; this guy is heavier than he looks." Graverobber ordered with a grunt. He shifted the arm draped over his shoulders.

"Gabriel, back inside." She automatically told the puppy, snapping her fingers as she stepped back from the doorway. Gabriel happily yipped and pranced back inside.

Graverobber stepped through the doorway a moment later, dragging the unconscious guy in with him. Shilo spent a moment starting at the man's head before she realized that what she'd thought was an odd hood to the man's jacket was actually the man's hair; a neon orange Mohawk jutted from the man's head like a particularly bristly scrub brush. Shilo barely noticed as a pale girl stepped in behind Graverobber and quietly shut the door.

"Um…Graverobber…?" Shilo said hesitantly. She trusted Graverobber, really, she did. But still…

"Yeah, Sparrow?" Graverobber grunted as he lugged the unconscious guy onto a waiting couch.

"What's going on?" She asked in complete bewilderment.

Graverobber gave a half-hearted chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up and faced Shilo.

"Surprise?" he asked sheepishly.

* * *

A/N: As always, please review to show your appreciation! Nothing inspires me more than some good old fashioned flattery! Also- I'm looking for somebody who'd like to do some light beta-work for this story. It's nothing much, but as seen in my last chapter, sometimes I can get so focused on dialogue that it gets a little stilted with the 'he said, she said' and I don't notice. (I'll be fixing that in the previous chapter soon, by the way.) Anybody who might be interested, throw me a line!

By the way, I'm moving in two weeks- across the country. So I might not have the next post up for a bit. I'll see what I can do, but it's gonna be up in the air. : )


	21. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I'm so poor it's not even funny. I guarantee you, I make no money from this particular piece of work. Despite the virgins I keep sacrificing, I STILL don't own Repo. I'm starting to think this book of Satanism is a rip off. Seriously.

A/N: Um… one of my awesome reviewers begged for an update before I moved. …And then my computer died a horrible and agonizing death and I was too poor to get a replacement computer for a very long time. I'm so sorry about the year long hiatus, but I'm back and raring to go! Hope you guys enjoy the update!

Oh yeah, I fixed Chapter 21. There are some small changes from my smoothing out certain parts and adding a bit more detail to other places. Nothing major changed, and you don't need to read it to keep up with the story, but I promised that I'd fix it… so I did.

* * *

"Please, Graverobber?" Star pleaded as Graverobber tried his best to burrow into the tabletop. "It's just for a little bit. I just need enough time to get the money together for the next payment and then they'll call the Repoman off."

He finally lifted his head up and gave Star a scornful look. "Are you really that delusional?" He asked sharply. "Once the contract goes out, there's no hiding from the Repoman. YOU should know that; you worked at that hellhole."

"What am I supposed to do?" she demanded. "I can't just let my brother die; I have to do SOMETHING."

Graverobber shook his head. "Stop and think about this, Star." He ordered in a hard voice. "Repomen have the best resources in the world when it comes to tracking people down. They've got access to every type of data collection hub; videos, bank accounts, internet- it doesn't matter how small or how insignificant, they find the smallest bit of information and they're like a hound with a scent. There isn't a place in the world that they can't track somebody down to. And when they find who they're looking for, they'll repossess the organ without a second thought."

Star shook her head in denial.

Graverobber continued his callous explanation, knowing that she needed to hear the truth. "They kill anybody who stands in their way. You know that. It's why nobody interferes when a Repoman is chasing down a target."

"I don't care!" she declared with a stubborn glint in her eye. "There has to be a way, I know there has to be a way-"

With a weary sigh, he covered her hand with his own. "You really think that your brother wants you to die for him?"

She snatched her hand away and glared at Graverobber. "You don't know a _fucking thing_ about me and Scotty." She hissed.

"I know he wouldn't be much of a brother if he's willing to let you throw away your life to try and keep him alive."

"It's not his choice." Star said with forced calmness even as tears seemed to shimmer in her eyes. "He's my baby brother. It's my job to keep him safe."

The words struck a chord in Graverobber, slamming into his chest with the force of a sledgehammer.

* * *

"_You awake, Mikey?" Seventeen year old Gabriel whispered into the dark room._

_There was a rustling movement from his younger brother's bed, and then Michael was sleepily sitting up. "Gabe?" he asked muzzily. "What're you doing? It's late."_

_Gabriel quickly stepped into the room and closed the door before he went over and sat on the edge of his brother's bed. He was nervous and it showed in how his hand kept rubbing the beads on the rosary wrapped around in his hand._

_Gabriel started to mentally recite the prayers as his fingers smoothed over the beads. _

'_Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…'_

"_Gabe?" Michael asked again, but this time the sleep had left his voice and instead there was a hint of anxiety. It snapped Gabriel out of his mental recitations and reminded him why he was in his younger brother's room._

"_Molly's not getting better." Gabriel said in a low voice. His hands trembled and the beads gave a slight rattle as the wooden beads shook._

"_She's still having those headaches?" Michael asked._

_Gabriel nodded, unable to speak without giving in to the urge to start crying. Headaches were the least of their baby sister's concerns. _

_Gabriel continued to mentally recite the prayer. It grounded him and made his hands stop trembling._

'_Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done…'_

_How was he supposed to tell his brother that Molly needed surgery because of how badly her head had been cracked? How sometimes she couldn't stop throwing up from the pain in her head, or how she was starting to see and hear things that weren't there…_

"…_Is she going to get better?" Michael asked in a quiet voice, perceptively picking up on the seriousness of the conversation._

_Gabriel gave a deep sigh. "…I… She…" His hands momentarily tightened on the rosary as he tried to sort out his thoughts. "She needs to go to a hospital. Not just the little clinic, but a hospital that can see her for her head." He finally said._

'…_On earth as it is in heaven…'_

"_What's wrong with the clinic?" Michael asked in confusion._

"_They're too small; the doctors don't know how to help her…" Gabriel told his brother. "The pills they gave her don't do anything and they said if she's not better by this point, they can't do anything… She needs a special doctor."_

_Michael's breath hissed as he quickly took a deep indrawn breath in surprise. "Dad would never…" Michael whispered._

_Gabriel nodded. "I know." He said in agreement. "But Molly needs to see the specialist if she's going to get better."_

'_Give us this day our daily bread…'_

"_Do we even have the money for something like that?" Michael asked anxiously. "I mean- a specialist… that's expensive, right?" he asked._

_Gabriel nodded again._

"_DO we have the money for something like that?" Michael persisted._

"_Not… yet." Gabriel said evasively. He shifted the beads even more rapidly through his fingers._

_Gabriel heard his brother audibly swallow. "What're you going to do?" Michael finally asked, well aware that his older brother would move heaven and earth when it came to himself and Molly. Especially Molly._

'…_And forgive us our trespasses…'_

"_I…" Gabriel felt his heart speed up, like he was standing on the edge of a precipice. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I can get a job over at the plant. They won't check my age if I list myself as eighteen instead of seventeen. I can work there and in a couple of months, I can make enough money to take Molly to the doctor."_

_Michael was silent for several minutes. Gabriel's heart was still pounding in his chest and he was sure he was breathing too loudly._

'…_As we forgive those who trespass against us…'_

"_But…Dad wants you to go into Seminary…" Michael said slowly. _

_Gabriel swallowed around the lump in his throat. "…I know." He whispered._

_Michael leaned forward and grabbed his older brother's arm. "Dad would kill you!" He hissed with wide eyes. "Gabe, don't do this! Don't-"_

_Gabriel gave a hollow laugh and scrubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. "What else can I do, Mikey?" he asked sadly. "I can't… You and Molly… It's my job to keep you safe."_

'…_And lead us not into temptation…'_

_Michael punched Gabriel in the arm. "I don't need to be protected…" he mumbled, obviously embarassed._

_The corner of Gabriel's mouth quirked into a small smile. He swiped a hand over his brother's messy hair. "I know kiddo. But Molly's the baby… And we have to watch out for her, right?" he asked._

_Michael hunched over his knees. "…Yeah." He agreed._

"_So you understand that I have to leave? That I have to do this? To help Molly?" He asked his brother._

_Michael nodded._

_Something that had been so tight in Gabriel's chest suddenly unwound as his younger brother agreed. The relief almost made his hands tremble again and he realized that he'd been clenching his rosary so tightly that there were indents in his hand._

'…_But deliver us from evil…'_

_He stood up. Now that he'd gotten 'permission' from his brother, he needed to start packing. He needed to leave as soon as possible. The sooner he had the money, the sooner that Molly could get the treatment she needed._

_At the doorway, Gabriel suddenly turned around. "You're gonna watch out for Molly, right?" Gabriel asked his brother. "You'll help her and try and keep Dad from coming down too hard on her until I come back?"_

_Michael was silent for a moment._

"…_Right?" Gabriel pressed._

"_Yeah, Gabe. I'll watch out for her." Michael finally agreed._

_Gabriel smiled in relief. "Thanks Mikey."_

'_Amen.'_

_The door shut with a quiet click._

* * *

"Fine!" Star snapped, jarring Graverobber out of his memories. "I don't need your fucking help! I'll figure it out myself!"

She slid out of the booth and stood up, preparing to leave.

"Wait." His hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist, halting her exit.

She whirled around, angry words just behind her lips… And then she met Graverobber's suddenly serious eyes. There was an emotion present behind his eyes… something she couldn't put a name on…

"You'd do anything to help your brother?" Graverobber asked her, his eyes never leaving hers.

Star nodded without hesitation, though she was more than a little confused.

"I'm serious, little girl." Graverobber warned her. "You'd do ANYTHING?" he persisted.

"If you're asking if I'll sleep with you or something-" Star angrily retorted.

"When the Repomen are involved, death is inevitable." The drug dealer said in a low voice that made Star uneasy. "It might not be your brother- hell, if you're lucky, it won't be you either- but somebody's gonna have to die, and that blood is gonna be on your hands. It means that you're gonna have to live with what happens for the rest of your life. You understand?" he asked intently.

Star stared at Graverobber, shocked. Blood on her hands…? He wasn't serious, right?

But she looked at his face and realized that yes, he was completely serious. No longer was there that sense of amusement flashing from behind his eyes, and there wasn't even a hint of a smirk around his mouth. His hands were completely still; one wrapped around her wrist and the other spread flat against the tabletop. He looked dark and intimidating, despite the fact that the diner they were in was full of bright lights and cheerful colors.

"I…" For a moment, Star wanted absolutely nothing to do with the man that held onto her wrist. She shuddered.

But in the next moment, she remembered WHY she was doing this; Scotty.

Now she understood Graverobber's question. Was she really willing to do ANYTHING to keep her brother alive? Even be responsible for the death of somebody else? Was that something she was willing to live with?

"Yeah." She said quietly. "I understand."

Graverobber shook his head as he released her hand. "No," he replied. "You don't." He threw back the last cold dregs of his coffee, swallowing despite the obviously bitter taste on his tongue. He set the coffee cup down on the cracked wooden table. "But you will."

The ominous words made a shiver creep up Star's spine, but she stood ramrod straight and nodded her agreement. One way or the other- she'd save her brother.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, it's short. Kinda have to get back into the swing of things. I should have a new chapter out next week. Reviews = Love!

~~Elaana


	22. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I own two cats. Neither are named Shilo or Graverobber. ... ... ... I suddenly have the urge to RENAME THEM Shilo and Graverobber. But I will resist. Because I don't own Repo or anything recognized as being from the Repo movie. Skedoosh.

AN: Oooooooh Crap. Crappity Crap Crap Craaaaaaap. You know what I found today? A timeline. A timeline for this story that mapped out like, my next 6 chapters. But I forgot about it. Apparently I forgot about it about… oh… 3 chapters ago. And now I have these mixed up plot points and some things jumped the gun a bit and now I'm flying by the seat of my pants while I try to figure out if I can salvage my awesome lil plotline. *thumbs up* AWESOME! GO ME!

So if it seems like Shilo doesn't know what the hell is going on, it's because she doesn't. The script I previously gave her has gone completely out the window. We're uh, we're… improvising! Hahaha, like in theater! *thumps head* Oh god…

And it was such a GOOD plotline too! Arg!

* * *

There was something cathartic about doing something as mindless as scrubbing the floors, Shilo decided. The simple action of her arm moving back and forth, the comforting feel of the bristles scratching and gliding over the polished wooden floors, waiting for her hand to feel clammy and cold before she dipped the scrub brush back into the bucket of warm sudsy cleaner next to her. Mindless. Comforting. Something she could control.

Because by god, the floors would be spotless.

Shilo needed something to take her mind off of the fact that complete strangers had been suddenly shoved into her life.

She dunked the brush into the soapy water again and focused on a particularly stubborn spot that refused to come out of the floor. Over and over, her brush dug into the smudge, and Shilo wished that it was as easy to clean up feelings as it was to clean the floor.

It wasn't that she minded meeting new people… Okay, well, maybe a little. She just didn't have the experience on how it worked. Theoretically, she understood the concept of basic introductions, followed by polite conversation, and eventually getting to know someone through repeated interactions and social niceties. But theory was always different than actually applying said information in a real life setting. And most of the time, Shilo felt very awkward and lost when she had to interact with anybody she didn't know- which was just about everyone. But she knew that it was just something she was going to have stumble through until she became used to the experience.

But having strangers shoved through her front door in the middle of the night while she was still half asleep was something she had absolutely no idea how to handle. It was a completely unprecedented social situation. Was she supposed to offer them refreshments? When exactly was she supposed to introduce herself when Graverobber was dragging an unconscious man up her stairs while the vaguely-familiar-looking female followed after them yelling at Graverobber to be careful? Wasn't she supposed to invite people inside before they entered her home? Did they even count as guests when she didn't know them?

A new thought suddenly struck Shilo. Oh god, what if Graverobber didn't know them either? What if they were STRANGER-strangers in her house?!

Unbidden memories of her father drilling the dangers of strangers when she was young almost overwhelmed Shilo. Her fingers flicked over her wrist before she remembered that she no longer had a communicator on her wrist, and that even if she did, her father was dead and unavailable for her to call. Oh yeah, and her father was a crazy murdering maniac that poisoned her to keep her from ever leaving him. Right. Shilo shook her head and quickly moved along the floor to the next section to clean.

She shouldn't be so silly. Of course Graverobber knew the strangers in her house. The woman had been yelling Graverobber's name, hadn't she? And Graverobber had called her… something. Shilo hadn't caught it because Gabriel had been barking and yipping in excitement.

She dunked her brush into the bucket with extra vigor before she started removing the black skid marks that she was sure was from the stranger's boots when Graverobber had dragged him to the stairs. The peeled rubber came up slowly and reluctantly, and Shilo made a mental note that she needed to polish the floors after she was done cleaning them. She definitely needed more mindless tasks for the night.

And in the morning after Graverobber was awake, she'd ask him what the hell was going on and then everything would be fine. She just needed to get through the night while strangers were in her house.

"What're you doing?"

Shilo jumped in surprise, dropping her brush with a clatter. "Graverobber!" she gasped, clutching at her chest. It felt like her heart was trying to leap out of her ribcage. "Don't DO that!" she scolded him, trying to catch her breath.

"Don't you know that normal people try to sleep at this hour, Sparrow?" Graverobber, as usual, looked entirely too comfortable as he leaned against the stair banister. Shilo knew from experience that the solid oak balustrade he seemed to effortlessly lean against was actually very uncomfortable with its alternating sharp angles and bulging protrusions.

The look on Graverobber's face was a familiar one, his eyes were laughing and his smirk said that she was about to get teased… But nothing came out of Graverobber's mouth when he opened it. Slowly, one of his eyebrows crept up to his hairline and his smirk melted into a thin and serious line. Shilo realized that she actually recognized the look on his face as his, 'you've GOT to be shitting me' look.

She wasn't quite sure what made Graverobber make that face, but it made Shilo drop her eyes. "I'm… cleaning…?" Shilo hesitantly offered. Her cheeks started to feel warm. Maybe Graverobber thought she was being too weird because she was cleaning in the early pre-dawn morning? Oh no! What if she was keeping him and the strangers up because of her cleaning?

"I'm really sorry, Graverobber. I'll be quieter from now on, okay? You should go back to sleep and I'll just finish the floors quietly." Shilo babbled.

Shilo felt the anxiety building in her chest and she bit on the inside of her cheek. Her hands started trembling. In a bid to try and stave off the panic attack that threatened to overwhelm her, Shilo turned her attention back to the floor. She'd be much quieter as she scrubbed this time. Then she wouldn't wake people up.

Mindless cleaning. That's what she needed. Everything would be okay as long as she could get the floor clean. She absently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear before she reached for the scrub brush that she'd dropped.

Graverobber's dirty boot pinned the brush to the floor before she could pick it up.

"Seriously, Sparrow? What the hell?" he asked from somewhere above Shilo's head.

She frowned, but didn't lift her head to look up at him. "You're getting the floor dirty with your boots, Graverobber." Shilo realized that her voice sounded distant, but she really needed to stay away from that part of her head that wanted to freak-the-fuck-out.

She tried to get her hand under Graverobber's boot to try and reach the brush, but he tilted the toe of his boot down in front of the brush, blocking her hand. Before she could protest, he kicked it backwards, sending it skittering behind him. The discarded brush hit the floor molding of the stair banister with a sad plop.

_My brush…_ Shilo mournfully thought.

Then she had no more time to contemplate the abandonment of her faithful brush because hands wrapped around her upper arms and she was hauled to her feet.

"Sparrow… Look at me."

Shilo kept her eyes focused on Graverobber's dirty boots. Callused fingers wrapped around her chin and gently forced her face up until her brown eyes met his gray ones. She could only meet his eyes for a moment before her eyes darted away and tried to find something else to look at. Graverobber's face wasn't supposed to look so… serious.

"Didn't we already talk about this before?" Graverobber asked her.

Shilo's brows furrowed in confusion. As a matter of fact, she couldn't remember her and Graverobber ever having a conversation about how strangers made her very nervous and uncomfortable. …Or maybe he was talking about how she used mindless manual labor like cleaning and cooking to distract herself from her anxiety? Sure, he'd made jokes about her obsessive cleaning before, but she never got the impression that he was serious…

While Shilo was trying to figure out what on earth had Graverobber so upset, his hand found hers and tugged up until her hand was in the air in between them.

"…Oh." Shilo said, breathing out a sigh of relief. Was that all?

"Oh?" Graverobber was frowning. "All you can say is 'Oh.' Shilo?" His voice was quiet and intense.

Uh-oh. He used her name. Her real name. He only did that when he was upset.

"It- it's not what you think…" Shilo stuttered, tugging on her hand a bit.

"You fucking PROMISED that you'd stop this shit." Graverobber hissed, not letting go of her hand.

"I didn't!" Shilo protested. "Grave-"

"Your hand is burned and covered in scabs and you're going to try and LIE about it?" Graverobber snarled, his hand tightened on Shilo's wrist for a moment.

The brief jolt of pain surprised Shilo and she yelped, mostly in surprise. Graverobber had never hurt her before.

The yelp shocked Graverobber and he belatedly realized what he'd done.

But Shilo pulled backwards, only wanting to get her wrist out of Graverobber's grasp. She wasn't paying attention when she stepped back into the middle of the soapy puddle on the floor. Her foot slipped out from under her just as Graverobber let go of her wrist.

Graverobber realized what happened just as Shilo felt her feet leave the ground. "Shit!" But he was too late to stop her from falling.

She crashed to the floor in a bone-jarring heap, her elbow knocking into the cleaning bucket and spilling its soapy contents all over herself and the floor. Her head hit the floor with a dizzying crack and all the breath was knocked out of her body as she slammed into the floor.

* * *

Her head was pounding. That was her first thought. Her head felt like someone was trying to hammer a nail into the back of her head.

The next thing she realized was that there were several voices around her. She couldn't quite get her eyes to open yet, but they all sounded very angry.

"-Get the fuck away from her!"

"Told you he was psycho-!"

"She's not dead-"

She moaned as the pain in her head seemed to spike. There was blissful silence for a moment until all the voices seemed to redouble in volume as they started yelling at each other again.

"-Your fault!"

"Don't touch-!"

"Let me-"

Something touched Shilo's shoulder and she moaned again. This time she managed to form a word. "Grave…"

There was the sound of a scuffle and then a meaty sounding thwack. Something crashed on the floor nearby and Shilo tried to get her eyes to open again.

"Scotty!" a female voice right above her head yelled. Shilo's head was jolted as whatever that was under her neck jolted her up and down. She whimpered.

"You goddamned-motherfucking-parasite-inducing-" someone snarled from the right of Shilo's figure.

"Stay the fuck down, you dumbass." Graverobber's familiar voice snarled from nearby. Shilo finally got her eyes to get with the program and they reluctantly fluttered open.

The woman-stranger was hovering over Shilo. "Graverobber, just stop right there." The woman commanded. It was the woman's hand on her shoulder, Shilo slowly realized, and it seemed that Shilo's head was also pillowed in the woman's lap. The woman was looming over Shilo with her hand extended out as if to stop something.

"Dammit, Star!" Graverobber growled. "I'm not going to hurt her!"

_Hurt who?_ Shilo muzzily wondered.

She slowly swiveled her eyes until she finally found Graverobber's familiar figure. He was a few feet away, and his hands were clenched in fists at his side. It was the angriest that she had ever seen him. She blinked and realized that Graverobber's face was a map of bruises and blood… yet _again._

"S'top getting in'ta fights…" Shilo mumbled.

There was a wordless growl and something plowed into Graverobber from behind, knocking him to the floor.

"I told you not to fucking _touch_ them!" the orange-mohawked stranger yelled as he started fighting with Graverobber. They rolled on the floor, coming closer and closer to Shilo and the woman.

"Scotty, stop it!" the woman hovering over Shilo yelled. She moved again and Shilo's head moved again. "You two are going to hurt-"

Her head was still very muzzy, but Shilo simply felt overwhelmed. Everything was too much, and Shilo burst into great wracking sobs.

Both of the men rolling around on the floor seemed to freeze as soon as they heard Shilo sobbing.

"It's all right honey," The woman above her tried to soothe. One of her hands brushed over Shilo's forehead and she rolled onto her side, trying to get away from the stranger that was touching her.

She cried even harder. Her head hurt and her chest was getting tighter and tighter. Her breath started whistling as her throat seemed determined to close up and she couldn't stop _crying-_

"Hey, breathe honey! C'mon, you need to take a breath and- Shit! Her lips are turning blue, guys-"

-and all she wanted was-

Arms scooped her up and then she was buried in a familiar chest. "I've got you, Sparrow." Graverobber reassured her. Her hands latched onto him and she clung to him like she was drowning and he was a life preserver. She tried to stop crying, but everything _hurt_, and Graverobber was hurt again, and somehow she had a feeling this was all her fault. She tried to take a breath and her breathing hitched. Hands rubbed in a soothing circle between Shilo's shoulder blades. "You've gotta calm down, Sparrow."

Shilo felt the tears leaking out her eyes and she shook as she tried to breathe normally. "C-can't…" she croaked. "'M sorry…"

Graverobber snorted. "Yes you can. Just breathe Sparrow." Shilo trembled as her breath continued to whistle through her closed up throat "You remember how to do this, Shilo. Breathe with me, alright? In… then out… In… then out…"

She focused on Graverobber's breathing and tried to match it. She kept her eyes closed and felt his heartbeat under her hands and ignored the sounds of other people in the room. In… out… In…

"…How're you doing?" Graverobber asked Shilo a couple of minutes later. She took an experimental breath and felt the lack of tightness in her chest. Even better, she'd managed to stop crying.

"…My head hurts." She mumbled. She cracked an eye open and peeked around Graverobber's arm, but didn't see either Star or Scotty. A very large part of Shilo was immensely happy about that.

At Shilo's words, Graverobber's arms tightened around Shilo for a second. "Christ, I'm so sorry." he whispered into her hair.

"'S okay…" she mumbled back, unwilling to remove her pounding head from his chest. That was, until he started poking around at the back of her head. She hissed in pain as his fingers ghosted over the edge of the goose egg that had started to form.

"Sorry." Graverobber apologized again, but his fingers were still parting her hair and he leaned over slightly as he tried to look at the damage.

Shilo tried to tilt her head away from his fingers, but it hurt to move her head. "Don't touch it…" she whined.

"Gotta see what the damage is, Sparrow." he replied. Long fingers gently grasped her chin and tilted her head until the light was shining in her eyes.

Shilo blinked, momentarily blinded. Then she let out a tiny giggle when she saw the squinting look of concentration on Graverobber's face. She winced as the giggle set off another round of pounding from the bump on her head.

"Ow…" she whimpered. She closed her eyes in a futile attempt to block out the pain.

"Keep your eyes open, Sparrow."

"Hurts." She croaked, but she opened her eyes, regardless.

"Follow my finger." Graverobber gently instructed her.

She cooperated, her eyes tracking his finger as he made it pass back and forth in front of her, then up and down.

Shilo wasn't sure if she'd ever had Graverobber's completely undivided attention like this before. It made her feel awkward.

"It wasn't what it looked like." Shilo blurted out.

"Hm?" Graverobber was still too focused on Shilo's face.

"My hand." She explained. She raised it up a little and finally, Graverobber's attention was diverted as he glanced at her hand. "I didn't scrub it raw or anything. Not recently. I burned it, but it was an accident when I spilled my hot chocolate-"

Shilo snapped her mouth shut with an almost overwhelming sense of horror. She'd almost blurted out her visit with Father Michael! Luckily, she'd cut herself off at a point that had a natural pause. "My- hot chocolate- before bed." She finished, hoping it didn't sound too stilted.

Now Graverobber was picking up and looking at her hand. He gently traced the edge of a burn with his thumb.

"I- I promise I didn't do anything to it on purpose. The scabs are almost healed, it's just sometimes they itch and I scratch at them and then they're open and-" Aaaaand she was babbling again.

"And I just needed to clean something because there are people I don't know in my house and I don't know how to act, so I was cleaning to make myself feel better and the bandages get all wet when I'm scrubbing the floors so I took them off, otherwise you wouldn't have even seen the new burns or the scabs- not that I get new burns and scabs all the time because I _don't_, but you wouldn't have noticed and then none of this would have happened and-"

"Bullshit."

The flat and angry tone shocked Shilo into silence.

"I-" she started to apologize.

"Don't you _dare_ take the blame for this, Sparrow." Graverobber told her in a tight voice that was full of… something. Shilo wasn't sure what the emotion was, but his voice was full of it. "Don't you _ever_ think that it's your fault that someone hurt you."

Shilo recoiled a little in surprise, finally recognizing the emotion that was present in Graverobber's voice. Guilt. "I don't-" _–blame you._ She tried to say, but she was interrupted again.

"I fucking hurt you!" Graverobber snarled at Shilo. Suddenly she wasn't curled up against his chest, but being held out at arm's length. "I got pissed over some stupid fucking imaginary _bullshit_, and I _hurt you_!"

Shilo's throat closed up, but not in fear. His tone was furious- but not at her. His eyes were wide and feral looking- in fear. His mouth was curled into a snarl- of self-loathing. And most importantly of all, his hands that were around her arms weren't gripping her- but pushing her away. She swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat at how deeply Graverobber was blaming himself.

"It was an accident." Shilo kept her voice soft and comforting, relying on her few memories of her father reassuring her as a child.

"Don't _do_ that!" he hissed at her, and now his hands were gripping her. "Don't make excuses for what happened!" Shilo got the distinct impression that he wanted to shake her, but he didn't. He was upset about what happened, but he was still mindful of the fact that her head felt like the wrong end of a jackhammer.

"I'm not making excuses." She replied back, still trying to keep her tone calm. "I slipped on the wet floor."

His next words were so low, Shilo could barely hear them. "You were trying to get away from me."

"I was surprised." She paused for a moment. "So were you." She pointed out.

"I hurt you."

Shilo wasn't sure if he was specifically talking about when he'd grabbed her wrist, or if he just meant the fact that she'd gotten hurt. She knew it was an accident, either way, but Graverobber was so hung up on the fact that he'd hurt her…

"…Did you want to hurt me?" she finally asked. She already knew the answer; the fact that he blamed himself so much was an answer in and of itself. But sometimes people needed to hear certain things out loud.

Graverobber physically recoiled, obviously caught off guard by the sudden question. His hands let go of her so quickly, she almost fell forward from the sudden lack of support. "Fuck no!" he exclaimed.

Shilo smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but the smile of somebody sympathetic and understanding of the horrible situation. "Then it was an accident." She told him. "I don't blame you, and I forgive you for whatever happened."

The man in front of her shook his head, and Shilo was hard pressed to recognize the man she knew as 'Graverobber'. She had a feeling that she was seeing something that was usually deeply buried underneath a flamboyant coat and a persona of a drug-dealer that didn't give a shit for a single thing in the world; what she was seeing was Gabriel.

"It's not that simple, Shilo," he said quietly. "You don't know what I am."

"You're my friend." She retorted. She scooted forward on her hands and knees until she was in front of Graverobber again.

"You're the man who helped a lost kid in a graveyard- who later helped the trapped kid escape to freedom." She touched his knee, and felt relieved when he didn't move away. She moved closer, still speaking.

"You watched over a lost girl and anchored her to the world again by making sure she knew she was real. You gave her purpose, and kindness, and a reason to laugh and live again." She was closer, and this time she put a hand on his arm and lightly grasped the material of his shirt.

She took a short breath, just a quick inhale to give herself a moment of courage, "You protect me from the unknown, and put me on my own two feet to face the world, and you don't let me get stuck inside my own head."

And then she wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders… and hugged him.

* * *

A/N 2: GAAAAAAAH. That is all. Questions? Comments? Complaints? Send 'em to me and I'll answer them. Hopefully this is the beginning of a triumphant return. : )

~Elaana


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